Life Goes On
by Lenni George
Summary: The continuing story of Aaron Hotchner and OC Lisa O'Reilly has come to it's conclusion with a trip into the future.
1. In The Blink Of An Eye

"_**We do not live an equal life, but one of contrasts and patchwork; now a little joy, then a sorrow, now a sin, then a generous or brave action"**_

_**Ralph Waldo Emerson**_

There were moments that Lisa O'Reilly Hotchner had to stop and remind herself that this truly was her life. In the space of four months, she'd gone from being painfully single to being married with a built in part-time family.

After their surprise Vegas wedding, Hotch had simply moved into her condo. He wasn't thrilled with the apartment he'd moved into after he and Hayley put the house on the market and leaving it for Lisa's comfortable home was no hardship. They'd turned her spare bedroom, which she'd used as an office/extra storage space into a room for Jack and quietly began to hunt for a larger place to live.

Thanks to the very talented Realtor that Derek Morgan referred, they quickly found a house they both liked in Annandale. It was closer to Arlington and therefore, closer to Jack. Within the space of a week, they'd put in a bid on the house, had the bid accepted, and settlement was scheduled for the first week of October.

It all happened so fast, but she wasn't complaining. Hell, things hadn't stopped moving long enough to have time to complain. And now, wasn't any different. She was packing to spend a week in Manhattan, giving a series of lectures with parents from the NCMEC over the course of the week. It had been planned since January, but she'd nearly forgotten about it with everything that had gone on in the past couple of months.

She spent most of the weekend, going over lecture notes, preparing her power point presentations, and deciding what to wear. As she went through her closet, choosing her clothing, Hotch walked into the room.

"I wondered where you'd gotten off to," she said, looking over her shoulder, to find him sitting on the bed.

"Checking my email," he explained, untying his sneakers and slipping them off. "What time is your flight tomorrow?"

"8:30," she said, slipping a suit into her garment bag.

"Want a ride to the airport?" he offered.

There was something in the tone of his voice that caused her to turn around. She smiled at him, then walked over and sat on his lap, slipping her arms around his neck.

"What's wrong?" she asked.

"Nothing," he smiled at her, tucking a lock dark red hair behind her ear. "What makes you think something's wrong?"

"This is the first time you've offered to drive me to the airport," she said.

"This is the first time my wife is going away," he countered, with a smile.

She grinned, "That still sounds so strange sometimes, doesn't it, the whole husband and wife thing?"

He laughed, "When I stop to think about it, yes, it does. But I'm starting to get used to it."

"I am, too," she agreed, kissing him. "And, I thank you for offering to take me to the airport, but, if you do, you'll be late to work and have to fight traffic. You'll be all grumpy when you get into work and I'm not going to inflict that on your team."

"I'm going to be all grumpy while you're gone anyway," he returned, nuzzling her neck.

"I'll be home Friday night," she said, leaning her head to the side to give him better access.

"And maybe I'll let you out of the house by Monday," he said, his voice muffled by her neck.

_**In human life there is constant change of fortune; and it is unreasonable to expect an exemption from the common fate. Life itself decays, and all things are daily changing.**__**Plutarch **__**  
46-120 AD, Greek Essayist, Biographer**_

She'd often heard it said that things change in the blink of an eye. Life was funny that way. Just when you thought everything was the way it should be, something came along and pulled the rug out from under you. Tonight was one of those nights.

That day's lecture at NYU was over early, so she stopped by the Federal Building to see some friends from her Academy days and hopefully catch up with the group from the BAU. Most of them had already left and as she sat talking to some friends she hadn't seen in years, Hotch called to tell her he was taking Kate Joyner home and that he'd meet her at the hotel.

Shortly after he called, they heard the explosion. Despite the fact that most of the building's occupants were trained Federal Agents, chaos ruled. She jumped in to help during the evacuation.

Once the details of the explosion started to come to light, the night's events became real to her, too real. As the night went on, Lisa felt the stares of her fellow agents. She wasn't sure if they were looking at her out of concern for her husband or if they were waiting to see her crumble under the stress and worry. She refused to show them anything and plastered on her game face.

She'd spent the night working at the Critical Incident Command Center that had been set up on Hudson Street. Monitoring the action, keeping track of the members of the BAU, worrying about Hotch, and all the while, maintaining that same cool, calm, professional façade.

Until her cell phone rang, causing her to nearly jump out of her skin. She didn't recognize the local number but answered it anyway. It was a unit clerk from St. Barclay's Hospital. The clerk, who's name Lisa promptly forgot was calling her as she was listed at Aaron Hotchner's next of kin.

Forcing down the nausea that was threatening to erupt, Lisa asked the nurse if he was okay. The clerk then informed her that he had left without being properly discharged and they did not get his insurance information. After giving the nurse a few choice words and telling her to bill it to the freaking terrorists, she hung up and quickly regrouped back into professional mode.

Feeling many curious stares, she looked right back at them, as if daring them to say anything. Most of them quickly averted their eyes, a couple nodded their encouragement, and JJ squeezed her hand and gave her a look of reassurance.

When it was over, she left the command center, catching a cab to St. Barclay's hospital, where Hotch and Kate Joyner had been taken. The last intel she'd heard had Kate in surgery. She knew that Hotch wouldn't leave the hospital until he knew she'd be okay. Having the cab drop her off at the emergency entrance , she walked through the nearly empty ER and approached the desk.

An older woman in a pair of mint green scrubs looked up at her and with a weary smile said, "Can I help you?"

Showing her badge, Lisa said, "I'm Supervisory Special Agent Lisa Hotchner. Two of my colleagues were brought in here tonight. I'm hoping to see them."

"Sure thing, Agent Hotchner," the woman replied, looking at the computer screen, "What are their names?"

"Kate Joyner and Aaron Hotchner," she said, watching as the woman's brows raised at the second name. This much she had gotten used to since their marriage. "He's my husband," Lisa clarified.

The woman nodded, "Agent Hotchner signed himself out," she said, then, "And I'm sorry, but Agent Joyner didn't make it."

Lisa closed her eyes for a moment, saying a silent prayer for Kate's soul. She opened her eyes and looked at the woman, "Thank you."

"Can you describe Agent Hotchner?" the woman asked, raising Lisa's curiosity.

"Yes," she began, "6'2", short dark hair…"

"He's still here." She nodded down the hallway. "Try Trauma Room 2."

"Thank you," Lisa said, walking down the hallway. She stopped at the closed door and looked through the window. The woman at the desk was right. He was there. She studied him, knowing he wasn't aware of her presence as he said his silent good byes to Kate. She wasn't sure if it was the scratches and cuts on his face or the sad look of defeat in his eyes, but she found it hard not to run into the room.

Instead, she stepped back, allowing him privacy, leaning against the wall waiting for him to come out.

XXXXX

As Aaron Hotchner looked at the still form of Kate Joyner, it struck him odd that her eyes were open. Didn't they shut the eyes of people who'd died? He'd always thought they did, but instead, they'd simply pulled the paper sheet up over her face. He did the same, noticing, as he did, that her hand had fallen out from under the sheet. Without thinking, he took her hand. Finding it cold surprised him on some level and he quickly tucked it back under the sheet.

He closed his eyes, willing himself not to give into the emotions that were bubbling beneath his normally sedate surface. His head was throbbing, the pressure in his ears was increasing and he wanted nothing more than to return to the hotel and fall asleep in Lisa's arms.

He knew she must be freaking out by this point. She'd told him she'd be at the Federal Building for a bit tonight and he assumed that was where she was when everything happened. He'd called her on his way out to tell her he was going to take Kate home and then he would meet her at the hotel. It seemed like years ago that they'd had that conversation. Looking at this watch, he realized that only four hours had elapsed since then.

He turned and walked to the door, feeling a sting in his leg where they removed shrapnel. That would be sore in the morning, he decided, remembering the pain killers they'd given him when he returned to the ER. They were in his pocket, but he wouldn't take them.

He pulled the door open and walked into the hallway to find Lisa, leaning against the wall, a smile on her face. She didn't say a word, just held her arms open. He took the width of the hallway in two long strides pulling her to him, feeling her arms wrapping around him, holding him tight.

She pulled back, studying his face for a long moment, before she leaned forward and kissed him softly. He responded to her kiss, deepening it, prolonging it, then pulled back.

"Hotch, I…" she began, but he shook his head. He didn't want words right now. He didn't want to talk, didn't want to listen, he just wanted to be as far away from St Barclay's as possible.

"Later," he said. "I just want to get out of here."

XXXXX

They returned to the hotel in silence. After getting undressed and slipping into bed. Lisa switched off the light and they lay, side by side, in the darkness.

She wanted to say so much, but no words would come. She wanted to roll over and hold him, but she wasn't sure how badly he'd been hurt. She wasn't sure about anything, until he reached over and took her hand in his.

She took this as her queue and quietly spoke. "I'm sorry," she began. "About Kate."

He was silent, so she kept speaking.

"Your injuries…"

"Acoustic trauma to my right ear," he reported.

"And the limp?"

"They pulled some metal out of my leg," he continued, his voice a monotone.

She opened her mouth to say something but her breath caught in her throat. Tears fell from her eyes and she tried to blink them back, not wanting to cry, not wanting to upset him further.

"Lisa," he quietly said, pulling her close to him, "Don't cry…"

She couldn't stop the freely flowing tears, "I…"

"Sh…" he soothed, stroking her hair. "I'm okay…"

She shook her head, "You're not…you're hurt, your upset, you lost a friend…you're about as far from okay as you can be."

Taking her face in his hands he studied it in the dim light coming from the window. "I'm okay now." He gave her a smile. "I'm with you."

This made her cry harder and she cursed herself for her response. "Damn it, Aaron Hotchner!" she spat, beating her fist onto his chest. "You were almost fucking killed tonight. I've just gotten used to being married to you and I am not going to be your widow. There is no way that's going to happen. Do you understand that?"

"I understand," he quietly said.

"I can't even fathom what you went through tonight," she allowed, "But I know you, you probably went through it all with that perfect calm of yours."

He laughed, although it sounded more like a snort, then said, "And inside? I was shitting a brick."

Lisa smiled, "I know."

Closing his eyes, he leaned his forehead against hers, "It was surreal. One minute we were walking to the car, the next minute I was clear across the street. It took me a few seconds to figure out what happened and then I saw Kate."

"Was she conscious?"

"She couldn't feel her legs, an artery had been severed," he drew a deep, ragged breath. "I knew, Lisa."

'You knew what?" she gently prompted.

"I knew she wouldn't make it," he admitted, "But I couldn't let her see it. She knew…she told me, but I kept telling her she was going to be okay."

"You did your best."

"And then I fell for the terrorist's ruse and drove that fucking ambulance right into the hospital," he spat, laying back on the pillows. "I was so anxious to get out of there…"

She knew he was tired and in pain, but she was not going to allow him to take on the responsibility for the entire event. Sitting up, she leaned over him.

"Do not do this," she quietly said, causing him to open his eyes and look at her. "This is not your fault. None of it is. Do you understand that you could be the one laying in the morgue? Do you understand that another 15 seconds either way and you would have been?"

"But I wasn't," he returned, anger welling in his voice. "I wasn't. And I focused so much on getting Kate out of there that I didn't notice the terrorists all around me…"

"And how would you?" she said, her own ire rising. "Did they wear t shirts that said "Kiss me, I'm a terrorist?" No they didn't. Did they look like militant religious fanatics? No, they didn't do that either. They looked like normal, ordinary people."

"Who shouldn't have been there," was his final shot.

"You shouldn't have been there," she concluded, laying back down. "If you want to lie here and blame yourself, you go right ahead. I'm sorry that this happened to you, Aaron. I'm sorry that you lost a friend. But God damnit, I don't want to hear you claim responsibility for this."

XXXXX

She was right, of course. He knew it. It was his way to internalize and take it all on. He couldn't have known about the bomb, he couldn't have known about the EMT. But Sam? That one, he should have known.

Despite the growing pain in his ear and the dull ringing that threatened his very sanity, he turned towards her, pulling her close. Her body resisted at first, anger still coursing through her.

"Lisa," he quietly said, testing the waters. He didn't need to lay next to her in anger, he need to lay with her. He needed to touch her, hold her, feel her, anything to remind himself that he was okay.

He felt her body relax against him, the soft shaking of her shoulders telling him the tears had started again. He took her face in his hands and kissed her softly. "Don't cry…please."

"I'm trying to stop," she softly said, "God, you know this isn't me."

"Isn't it? Do you live through this everyday?" he tried.

"Not anymore than you do," was her reply.

The ringing in his ears grew louder, but he wasn't about to give into it. Not yet anyway.

"You're in pain," she said. "You need to take…"

"No," he flatly said.

"Just one, just to sleep," she tried.

"I don't need drugs," he said, kissing her, "I just need you."

"But…" she began.

He silenced her with a kiss, followed by another, and another, until she gave up the protest and wrapped herself around him. Despite the soreness in his muscles and the pain in his head, he made love to her fiercely, forcing all thoughts of tonight from his mind, if only for a few moments. He took comfort in the familiarity of her body. The sound of her soft moans and whispered words reminded him that this was what was real, this was his constant and that everything that happened was an anomaly, and soon to become a bad memory.

They reached their climax almost simultaneously remaining joined while their bodies calmed. When he was able to move again, he slowly and painfully rolled onto his back, pulling her with him, so that her head rested on his chest.

Kissing the top of her head he softly said, "I love you."

"I love you, too," she replied, draping her arm across him. "Try to get some sleep, okay?"

'I will," he lied, knowing that sleep would not come tonight.


	2. This Can't Be Happening

**_This chapter is for you, Tonnie - you know why! And I need to say thank you to Susan, Tracia, and Annika for encouraging me to keep writing this pairing. And to those of you who keep reading, thank you! Please comment and let me know you're out there!! _******

**_The only thing that should surprise us is that there are still some things that can surprise us._**

**_Francois De La Rochefoucauld  
1613-1680, French Classical Writer_**

Some signs in life are hard to ignore. No matter how hard you try, they throw themselves in your face, over and over again. If you don't notice them, they also tend to bring friends to help enforce their message. This morning, she was being sent a strong message, one she couldn't ignore.

They'd been in their new house for nearly three weeks and despite the increasing issues he'd been having with his ear, things were moving along quite well. She'd talked him into going back to the doctor and he'd even had a visit scheduled, until the BAU caught a case and he hopped on the jet with the team.

He knew damn well that he shouldn't be flying, but there wasn't any other option and he wasn't ready to admit that things had gotten too bad for him to continue his normal job functions. So, without saying anything to him, she called and rescheduled the visit, hoping he'd be home from Nebraska before the new date she'd scheduled. Surgery was imminent, no matter what he said.

She'd been so tired during the past week, just dragging herself through each day was almost more than she could accomplish. With Hotch being out of town, she could come home and crash every night, without having to explain, or have him worrying about her non stop.

She'd fallen asleep early last night, waking for his late call. He felt guilty for waking her, but she dismissed it and talked with him, listening as he sorted through case details, offering thoughts and ideas. She'd fallen right back to sleep when they hung up. This morning, however, she was exhausted. She overslept, hitting the snooze bar twice. Dragging herself to the shower, she let the hot water beat down on her for a moment before she was hit with a wave of nausea.

Hopping out of the shower, she made it to the toilet just in time to evacuate her stomach contents. _Shit, _she thought, _this is all I need. A freaking stomach virus?_

Forcing herself back into the shower, she finished, then toweled off and reached into the medicine cabinet for her birth control pills. As she reached for them, she realized that she had taken the last placebo pill yesterday and that she should be starting a new pack. This in itself wasn't too big of a deal, but when she realized that she hadn't gotten her period during those placebo pills, like she had every month since she was 18 years old, it became a very big deal.

"No," she said aloud. "Oh no…" She wouldn't allow her mind to process the thoughts that lurked way in the back. "This has been a stressful month or so…" she continued, still talking aloud. "You've been through a lot. That's what it is. It's normal for women to skip a period, right?"

She got dressed quickly, making her way down to the kitchen to grab a cup of coffee before drying her hair. As she poured the steaming black liquid into her mug, the smell invaded her nose. Normally, this was a good thing. This morning, however, it caused her stomach to flip violently and she ran to the sink, throwing up again.

"Shit…" she sighed, "It's got to be a stomach virus."

Shaking her head, she went back upstairs to brush her teeth and dry her hair.

XXXXX

The morning was a blur of paperwork and nausea. Thanks to an impromptu visit from Penelope Garcia around 10 am, she discovered that she could tolerate green tea with sugar and sugar cookies, Pen's idea of something that someone with a stomach bug should be able to tolerate. She finally packed it in around noon, deciding that she was getting nothing accomplished at the office and should just go home and sleep it off.

On the way out of the building, she discovered the side effect of tolerating the tea and cookies as that now that she had something in her stomach, she also had something to force out when a strong waive of nausea hit on her way out the door. She rushed to the trash can by the door and with a horrible retching sound, the cookies and tea left her stomach.

"Lisa," David Rossi's concerned voice began, "Are you okay?"

Leaning over the trash can, she saw his shoes and denim clad legs standing next to her. "Stomach bug…" she mumbled.

He bent and picked up her purse and briefcase. "I hope you're on your way out."

"I am," she said, standing up slowly, her head spinning.

"No offense, Little Girl," he gently said, "But you look like shit."

"I knew I could count on you to cheer me up, Rossi," she tried, with a weak smile.

"Come on, I'll drive you home," he began, slipping his arm around her shoulders.

"No, I'm okay," she dismissed, as they walked into the parking lot. "I'll be fine once I get in the car. I'll roll down the windows and let the air hit my face."

He shook his head, "I'm taking you home."

"If you do that, I've got no way into the office tomorrow, remember, Hotch is in Nebraska?"

"I'll pick you up in the morning," he replied.

"Dave," she softly said, "I will be fine. I promise, please just let me drive myself home? I'm just going to lie down and crash and sleep this off, okay?"

He studied her face for a moment, then, "Okay, but you will call me once you get into house, promise?"

"I promise," she smiled, noting the concern on her old friend's face. "I'm okay, Dave."

"Call me," he insisted.

He had helped her into the car and watched as she drove off. Thankfully, she was half way home when the next round of nausea hit, forcing her to pull over on I-95. Sitting there, watching traffic whiz by and waiting for her head to clear, she was suddenly, dreadfully certain that this wasn't a stomach virus. She had no fever, her skin wasn't clammy, well until after she threw up, and none of the other side effects were present.

"Okay, O'Reilly," she said, centering herself, "We're going to stop playing this game. This _what if_ crap isn't going to get us anywhere." She pulled back into traffic, plotting her course of action. "This has happened before. You know the deal. Do the test, it comes up negative and the next morning you wake up and Aunt Flow makes her visit. Simple, easy, predictable…"

Yet in her gut, she knew this time was different.

XXXXX

Four hours later, Lisa O'Reilly Hotchner had documented proof that this time was different. Sitting on the floor of their master bathroom, she looked around at the 15 small white plastic sticks laying on the green bathmat and felt all of her carefully laid future plans slipping away.

It was over kill, she decided, looking at the sticks. She really didn't need to pick up one of each type of test, even though, she knew that sometimes they gave false positives, but 15 false positives? No, she decided, that wasn't possible.

Lying back onto the tile floor, she breathed deeply, willing her mind to process the facts in front of her. She was pregnant. Fifteen home pregnancy tests couldn't be wrong, could they? Reaching up onto the sink, she grabbed her cell phone and dialed her doctor's office. She knew they'd be there, they had hours until 6 pm. After she explained her situation, they told her to stop by on her way to work and they'd run a blood and urine test for her. She'd have her results the next afternoon.

As she hung up with the doctor's office, the phone rang, causing her to jump. She answered it quickly. "Hello?"

"You feeling any better?" Rossi's voice asked.

"Yeah, Dave, I am," she smiled, touched by his concern. "I've been sleeping all afternoon."

"Good," he replied, "I'm probably heading out of here early. Since Jennifer is in Nebraska, I've got no one to eat dinner with. Why don't I stop and pick up something and bring it up?"

"I'm half an hour out of your way, Dave," she said, softly, "And food just isn't appealing right now."

"Well, what if I told you that I was standing in your driveway with take out from the deli?"

"You are not," she said, panic hitting her, as she looked around the floor.

"I am…come on and let me in before your chicken soup gets cold," he laughed, breaking the connection.

"Shit," she spat, gathering the sticks into a pile on the floor. "Shit…" She stood, taking a look at herself in the mirror. She really did look like shit, which was good because she felt like shit as well. Bending over to pick up the sticks wasn't happening, so she made a mental note that he would just have to use one of the two and a half other bathrooms in the house.

With a sigh, she made her way down stairs.

XXXXX

David Rossi was surprised to see how much worse Lisa looked when she opened the door. Wearing a pair of sweatpants and a huge zip front black FBI sweatshirt that made her pale skin look even more ghostly, she gave him a tired smile. She looked tired, drawn, and pale, all of which lent to her stomach virus theory. What was missing, however, was the clammy skin, the fever, the cloudy eyes. None of those were present. He found it odd, very odd.

"Yeah, I look like shit," she tiredly laughed, "I know."

"You sure as hell do," he agreed, walking in and closing the door behind him. "Come on; let's get some chicken soup in you."

He'd settled her at the kitchen table and watched as she slowly ate a bowl of chicken noodle soup.

"How do you feel?" he asked, as she sipped at the Gatorade he'd brought.

"Better," she agreed, "Exhausted?"

"Why don't you let me help you up to bed?" he said, standing. Then, with a twinkle in his eye he said, "Just promise not to tell Jennifer that you and I were alone in your bedroom."

She laughed, standing. "God and I'm just so desirable right now, too. Didn't know puking turned you on, Dave…"

"Let me tell you," he laughed with her, glad to see her with a bit more color. "Come on; let's get you to bed…"

He led her upstairs and into the master bedroom. As they hit the room, she made a strange strangling sound and ran for the bathroom. He followed her quickly, holding her hair back while she got sick.

"This brings back memories," he mused.

"Very funny," she gasped, throwing up again.

"Let it out, Little Girl," he said, as her body began to relax. He helped her up and stood her in front of the sink. As she brushed her teeth, he stepped back, feeling something under his foot. "What the hell?" he asked, turning to find a pile of white plastic sticks.

Upon closer inspection, he noticed the small plus sign on one of the sticks, next to it was a stick with two pink lines, and then, next to that one that gave him confirmation to his suspicions, the stick that said the word "pregnant." He turned to her to find her looking back at him, a wild look in her eyes.

"Yeah," she said, "It's not a stomach bug…"

"Holy shit, Little Girl," he laughed, "Does Hotch know?"

She shook her head, "I just did them…this afternoon."

"There's gotta be a dozen sticks here, Lisa," he began, still laughing. "You did them all?"

"There are fifteen and yes, I did," she concluded, setting down the lid of the toilet seat and sitting on it.

"And all of them are positive?"

She nodded, a look of finality on her face. "This can't be happening, Dave…"

"Looks like it is…"

"No," she insisted, emotions straining, "You don't get it. I'm on the pill. I've been on the pill since I was 18 years old and never, not one day, have I missed it. Not one freaking day have I varied from my pill taking schedule. Not one, Dave. Do you understand?!?!?!"

"They say no birth control method is 100%," he offered.

"Warn JJ, Dave…the pill lies," she went on, her eyes wild, her breathing rapid. "I mean…this can't be happening. It's too soon…he's gotta have surgery…"

He watched as her actions became more manic and knew that if he didn't step in, she'd lead herself right into a round of hyperventilation. This couldn't be good for her or the baby. Taking her by her arms, he spoke quietly but firmly. "The first thing you need to do is call your doctor…"

"Did it," she said, eyes still wild, "I go on the way in to work tomorrow."

"Okay, the second thing you need to do is breathe slowly and calm down. If these fifteen tests are correct, you've got a little one to worry about now…"

"Shit, Dave…" she said, eye welling with tears, "Me? A mother? I can't frickin' do this!"

"You can so," he softly smiled, "You're one of the most caring women I've ever known…and you do one hell of a job with Jack."

"But that's different…I have to do this whole pregnancy thing, Dave! I can't do this part…"

"Why can't you?"

"Cuz it's scaring the shit outta me," she admitted, her eyes giving away her fear. "If this is true, there's a little human being in me. How creepy is that?"

He resisted the urge to laugh, "Only you would think of that as creepy."

"Well it is!" she insisted. "Dear God, it's like the movie Alien…there's this living, breathing, thing in me…that will eventually be out here on its own…" She shivered.

Unable to control it this time, he laughed loudly, "Lisa, you need to stop."

"You're laughing," she pouted.

"I am," he agreed, "And don't let Hotch hear you call his offspring an alien. That might just set him over the edge."

"Oh God…Hotch!" she said, alarm claiming her features. "What's he going to say?"

"If I know him, he'll be overjoyed," he fondly said. "He's good at this fatherhood thing and he misses a lot of time with Jack. Maybe having another child will help him deal with that."

Lisa dropped her head in her hands and sat for a full minute before looking up at him, "You can't tell a soul about this…"

"You know me well enough by now to know I don't tell tales," he said with a smile. "Now, let's get you and Little Hotch into bed."

"Little Hotch?" she laughed, "What if it's a girl?"

"A little Lisa?" he shook his head, "The world is not ready for that, Little Girl."


	3. Real Life Is Nothing Like The Movies

"_**Being pregnant is an occupational hazard of being a wife."**_

_**Queen Victoria**_

She'd wanted to tell Hotch the news that night when he walked in the door. It had literally been burning a hole in her tongue, but as usual, Life had other plans for them.

She'd made a quick stop at the doctor's office on her way in to Quantico. The nausea was still present, but not as strong and she'd managed to make it through the day. Between Garcia and Rossi, she'd been checked on fifteen times. Although Rossi knew the truth, she couldn't tell Garcia. It wouldn't be fair of the whole BAU knew before Hotch did.

When the doctor's office called at three, they confirmed what the fifteen little plastic sticks had already told her. She was pregnant, nearly 6 weeks, due in June. After taking a moment or two to let the finality of the situation sink in, fighting the urge to pick up the phone and call Hotch. He was wrapping up paperwork for the BAU's latest case and when she'd talked to him around 10, she could hear in his voice that he was in pain. She had decided to wait and tell him when he got home.

Unfortunately, a storm blew through Nebraska, delaying their take off by two hours. When he walked through the door, at 11 pm, she could read his exhaustion and pain and ushered him straight up to bed.

He tried to fight her, telling her that he'd missed her and wanted to sit up and talk to her, but she insisted that they could talk tomorrow. She slipped into bed with him and allowed him to take her into his arms, before he fell into a deep sleep. She would tell him in the morning, she decided, willing herself to fall asleep.

XXXXX

The sound of Lisa's clock radio woke Hotch from a deep dreamless sleep. He was grateful that the ringing in his ears had subsided and that the pain wasn't as bad as it was last night. As he opened his eyes, to begin his normal morning routine of waking Lisa, he was surprised to find her wide awake, sitting up.

"Good morning," he said, with a smile.

"Good morning," she replied, her tone strained, her smile nervous.

Something was definitely not right with Lisa and he grew instantly concerned. Sitting up, he asked, "What's wrong?"

"While you were gone, I discovered something that I need to share with you," she began.

Her grave expression and pale skin caused him to go into "instant worry mode" and he sat up, taking her hand. "This seems fairly serious. "

Lisa nodded, "It's probably one of the most serious things I will ever have to tell you."

He could tell she was stalling, trying to come up with a way to tell him whatever it was. Feeling a strange knot in the pit of his stomach, he waited for her to go on.

"Do you remember when we first saw this house?" she began, her expression telling him that she'd chosen her line of attack and was on her way to revealing this mysterious information. She continued, "And I fell in love with it but was concerned about having five bedrooms? You said that we'd have plenty of room for Jack and if we ever needed another bedroom, we'd have three?"

"I do…" he replied.

"Well, I guess we were smarter than we thought, cuz we're going to need one of those extra bedrooms," she said, then, in a soft voice, she said, "I'm pregnant, Hotch."

He sat for a moment, allowing the words to sink into his brain. "Pregnant," he repeated, looking at her, waiting for confirmation. "A baby…for real? You're sure?"

Reaching into the drawer of her nightstand, Lisa pulled out a large Ziploc bag and handed it to him. He studied the contents for a moment, recognizing what the plastic sticks were.

"There are 15 of them," she began, "Every one of them is positive. But, that wasn't enough for me, I also paid a visit to Dr. Bergen yesterday and the blood test confirmed what all of those stupid sticks have to say."

He looked down at the bag, reading the various positive results through the plastic, and then looked back up at her. She was nervous, as if she had no idea how he'd react. He smiled at her, watching has she formed a smile of her own.

"How pregnant are you?" he asked, the words sounding more real once he said them out loud.

"About six weeks according to the blood work," she said.

"That puts you due in…June?" he asked, quickly calculating the time.

"The 17th," she nodded.

He nodded with her, watching her expression carefully. She had the look of resigned acceptance that you sometimes see on people who've lived through a catastrophic event. Not quite the joyous tears that Hayley experienced when she told him about Jack's impending birth.

"What are you thinking?" he asked.

She looked at him for a long moment before saying, "I honestly don't know what to think. I…kinda lost it yesterday. I was throwing up, I felt like hell and Dave showed up with chicken soup, right after I did all 15 of those freaking tests. He was helping me up to bed and I suddenly had to puke, so I run into the bathroom. Of course, he follows me, holds my hair while I puke and sees the sticks on the floor. I'm sorry, Hotch, he knows."

"It's okay," he softly said, "He was here to take care of you, when I wasn't."

"Don't do the guilt thing," she cautioned.

"I'm not," he laughed. "I was just stating a fact. Besides, he'll keep it in confidence until we're ready to let everyone in on it."

"Shit," she said, eyes wide, "I didn't even think of that. I haven't thought of anything past telling you." Seeming nervous, she said, "You haven't told me what you think."

He realized that he didn't know what he thought. His brain hadn't truly processed the information yet. He decided to go for honesty.

"I don't know what I think, either," he said, then, watching as her brows furrowed, he offered her a smile. "Neither of us have discussed having kids, but now that we are, I'm not going to lie, Lisa. I'm happy about it."

"Are you? Really?" Doubt was written plainly on her features.

Taking her hands in his he looked her in the eyes and said, "I am. I'm just so surprised by this that I haven't processed it yet."

"I don't think I have either," she dryly laughed, "And I've had 48 hours to digest it." She closed her eyes for a moment. Holding his hands tightly, she opened her eyes and said, "If this isn't what we want, we don't have to do this. It's still early enough to…"

"Don't," he said, interrupting her, "That's not an option."

She released the breath she'd been holding, "Okay. So now what? What do we do? I mean, you've been through this before. What happens now?"

He laughed at her question, "You're asking me? Hell, I wasn't exactly a willing participant last time around." He kissed her softly, "But this time…"

She smiled at him, "Like I'd let you sit back on the sidelines? We're a team, remember?"

"Yeah, I remember," he nodded.

"I don't want to tell anyone yet," she said, quickly. "Not until I'm past my first trimester. I'm considered old for a first pregnancy…there's all kinds of possible issues and if something does happen…"

"We don't have to tell anyone," he said.

"I know Dave will keep our secret," she offered. "But we'll have to be very careful around work."

He nodded.

"Damn…I've got that conference planned in September…" she said, "If I give birth in June…take 3 months…I'll be back right before the conference. Good, that will work."

"You know, you don't have to go back to work that soon," he suggested. "You can take six months, a year…"

She shook her head, "No, I can't be away that long. I'll just get the baby a spot in the building day care and come back after three months."

"And that's what Hayley said, but she never went back," he dismissed, realizing, after he said those words that he'd made a huge mistake.

Lisa's eyes narrowed and her voice came out as a hiss, "Let's get one thing straight. I am not and will never be like Hayley. You cannot compare us. I do not want to have the perfect child, the perfect husband and the perfect life. I know what I want and I know who you are. All comparison to Hayley or your first marriage stops here."

"Lisa," he said, watching as her face grew pale, "I didn't mean to imply…"

"But you did," she said, "Do not forget who you're talking to here. I am the person who you used to vent to; I'm the one who heard your fears and worries. And I also saw the changes your marriage went through."

"You don't know the half of it," he shot, watching her eyes grow wide.

"Don't I? I know more than…oh shit," she choked, bolting out of bed and running into the bathroom.

He got out of bed and followed her, finding her hunched over the toilet. Kneeling next to her, he pulled her hair back, holding it while she finished and sat back onto her heels. She leaned against him while she gathered her strength.

"Help me up," she said, "I need to brush my teeth."

He helped her to stand and waited his hands on her hips, while she brushed her teeth. When she was done, he led her back to the bed and helped her to lie down.

As she closed her eyes and lay perfectly still, he returned to the bathroom, returning a moment later with a cool, wet washcloth, which he laid across her forehead.

"That feels good," she smiled, keeping her eyes closed.

"I'm sorry, Lisa," he quietly said, kissing her softly.

"I'm okay," she dismissed, "This has been my life for the past two days."

"You're staying home today," he decided, "And so am I."

"Hotch…"

"No," he firmly said. "I'm not leaving you like this."

Her eyes opened, "You're going to that doctor's appointment," she hissed, "If I have to throw you over my goddamned shoulder and take you myself…" She sat up, "Shit…" she said, getting out of bed and running back to the bathroom.

He followed her again, feeling helpless and guilty. He knew he'd upset her and now she was getting sick. He was no medical professional, but he could see that the two actions were related.

He helped her stand and brush her teeth again, and then helped her back into bed, laying the wash cloth back onto her forehead. He watched as a tear slipped from her tightly closed eyes, followed by another, and another. _Shit, Hotchner, _he reprimanded himself, _now you made her cry, you dumb ass_.

"Lisa," he softly said.

"Guess real life is nothing like the movies, huh? Those couples are always so deliriously happy when they find out they're pregnant. They hug, they laugh, they shed tears of joy…" she sniffed. "We argue."

He felt as if he'd been kicked in the stomach. He'd only been half an hour into his new journey into fatherhood and he was fucking it up already.

"I'm sorry," he said, again. "I'm fucking this up."

"No," she tiredly said, opening her eyes, "You're not. I shouldn't have said that. Freaking hormones."

"I've got to get a shower so I can get to the doctors," he said, "Stay home today. If you feel better, work remotely, okay?"

She nodded, "What about you?"

"I'm coming home after the doctors," he said, "We need to make some plans…" He smiled at her, "We're having a baby, SSA Hotchner." He kissed her softly. "We need a game plan."

XXXXX

After calling in to work, Lisa fell back to sleep. She was still sleeping when Hotch returned from the doctors. Hearing his voice calling her name pulled her from her sleep. She opened her eyes to find his concerned features looking back at her.

"Hi," she said, "I fell back to sleep after you left."

"I can see that," he smiled, helping her sit up.

"What time is it?"

"Nearly noon," he replied, "Why don't you get up and we can get some lunch?"

"I am kind of hungry," she decided, studying his face. There was something in his eyes that made her uneasy. "What did the doctor say?"

"The tear in my eardrum isn't healing on its own," he explained, "He's scheduling me for a tympanoplasty."

She nodded, "And you're okay with it?"

"No, I'm not," he said with a dry laugh, "But there is no other alternative at this point."

"When?"

"The scheduling clerk will call this afternoon with the details," he concluded. "As soon as they schedule, I need to call Erin and give her the date. I'll be able to return to work in a day or two, but no flying for 3-4 weeks."

"And are you going to listen to them this time?" she smartly said.

"Yes," he returned with an equally smart reply. "And what about you?"

"What about me?"

"If I promise to do what the doctor tells me, will you promise the same thing?" he countered, fixing her with the patented Aaron Hotchner raised brow look that just dares you to give him any answer but the one he wanted.

She laughed at him, "What's for lunch?"

"Don't avoid my question," he said, laughing with her.

"Yes, I'll do what the doctor tells me," She said, holding up her fingers in the Girl Scout pledge, "Now, can we get lunch?"

"Yes," he said, giving him a kiss, "Now, we can get lunch."


	4. Surgery Sucks, Dave

_**A slight touch of friendly malice and amusement towards those we love keeps our affections for them from turning flat.**__**Logan Pearsall Smith **_

Lisa O'Reilly Hotchner sat on the back deck of her Annandale, VA home, sipping from a mug of tea and scanning the morning paper. Since they'd moved into the house, they'd rarely been able to enjoy having their morning coffee back here.

They'd made a point of spending their weekend mornings on the deck. Sitting and talking while the air was punctuated by the sounds of playing children. This morning, however, was a Thursday. As school was back in session, there were no playing children, just the sounds of the birds in the trees, and her name, being called.

Turning her head towards the house next door, she found her neighbor, Emma Duvall, walking across the yard. Emma, a former school teacher, was now a stay at home mom. Despite their different life styles, Lisa and Emma had bonded quickly.

"Hey, Emma," Lisa tiredly said, watching as Emma walked up the steps to the deck. "How are ya?"

"I'm good, but you look exhausted," Emma laughed in her soft Virginia accent. "How'd Aaron's surgery go?"

"It went well," she said, "They managed to repair his ear drum completely."

"Is he in much pain?"

"Not so much pain, but pressure," she said, "It got so bad that I had to take him up to the ER around eleven for a shot of morphine. Of course, I had to threaten him with bodily harm to get him to go."

"Just like a man, has to be all brave about it, huh?" Emma knowingly laughed.

"I married Dudley Doo-Right, Em," Lisa laughed with her, "The man firmly believes in the just say no to drugs propaganda."

"Well, with his job, I can understand," the petite brunette allowed.

"Yeah, well, I understood it…until 3:45 this morning, when despite the morphine, he was wide awake and miserable. The ER doctor said he could take a Percocet after a couple of hours. But of course, he didn't want to. It was somewhere after the five hundredth sigh and groan that I told him, in no uncertain terms, that he would take the freaking Percocet or I would personally use my service weapon and put us both out of our misery."

Emma laughed, "And did he take it?"

Lisa nodded, "He's now passed out and probably drooling all over my pillow."

Emma laughed harder, "You are so tough on that man."

"He deserves everything he got, Em," she protested with a laugh. "I know he didn't ask for the ear injury, but if he wouldn't have been so damn stubborn and flown when he shouldn't have, then tried to pretend that he was okay, things might not have gotten to the point of needing surgery."

"Darlin', Aaron is a man. A man's man, just like my Brian," she explained. "It is not in their make up to give in and admit they're hurt that badly."

"Yeah, yeah, yeah," she laughed. "You can defend him all you want. You didn't have to sit up all night with him."

"What are you doing up? You should be crashed out with him."

"Seems he planned a conference call with his team this afternoon and I have to wake him up in time," she sighed, "I figured I'd wake him around 10:15, get him into the shower, get some food into him and make sure he's wide awake before hand."

Emma nodded, "Yeah, good luck with that."

"Tell me about it…"

XXXXX

Shortly after 10 am, Lisa walked into the master bedroom.

"Come on, Sleeping Beauty," she called, walking to the bed. "Time to rise and shine."

Receiving no response, she sat on the side of the bed, taking a moment to look at her sleeping husband. She smiled. He was curled up on his side, his arms around her pillow. An unruly lock of dark hair fell across his forehead and she resisted the urge to comb it back with her fingers.

She bent and kissed his cheek. "Come on, Hotch…let's get you up and moving."

"I'm up," he replied, his voice groggy.

"No you're not," she said, "Open your eyes…"

"Ten more minutes, Mom…"

Lisa laughed, "Sweetheart, I am not your mother and if Percocet reveals a deeply hidden Oedipus complex, I'm really not gonna be happy."

"I'll make you happy," he mumbled, eyes still closed. "I'll rock your world."

"Oh yeah, this is going to be fun," she sighed, trying not to laugh at his last comment. "Aaron…" she sharply said, causing his eyes to fly open.

"What?" he blinked rapidly, his eyes adjusting to the sunlight. "What'd I do?"

"Nothing," she said, "Except refuse to wake up."

"You made me take the Percocet," he said, surprisingly lucid.

"It was either that or shoot you," she said sweetly.

"You wouldn't have shot me," he laughed, with a smile that she could only describe as goofy, and lucidity gone once again. "You love me."

"Yes, I do," she agreed.

"You're having my baby," he continued.

"Yes, I am," she said, rolling her eyes, "Think you can sit up?"

"Of course I can," he said, smartly, "I mastered that task before I was out of diapers."

"Okay then, Smart Guy, let's see you do it."

"Okay," he said, sitting up quickly, color draining from his face. "Whoa…."

"Whoa?"

"Yeah, whoa," he said, remaining upright, while the color returned to his face. "That was one killer head rush…" he snickered. "Dude…"

"Dude?" she laughed. "Oh, God, you are high as a kite, aren't you?"

"I don't do drugs," he said, seriously, "I am a highly respected agent of the BFI…"

"BFI? Don't you mean the FBI?"

"Yeah, that too," he agreed. "And the DMV…and the CIA…and…"

"And the SPCA, too?" she snickered, realizing that she was enjoying this just a bit too much.

"No," he returned, wrinkling his nose, "That's where they neuter dogs. I'm not going there."

"Don't worry, we're not going to neuter you, yet." She walked around to his side of the bed. "Think you can stand up?"

"I learned that one early too," he dismissed, throwing his legs over the side of the bed and quickly standing.

Between the ear surgery and the medication, his equilibrium was not at its best and he fell back down on the bed. "Shee-it…there goes that head rush thing again." He laughed. "Dude, I am seriously fucked up."

"That's an understatement," she agreed. "Maybe the conference call should wait."

"No, no, no," he said, shaking his head. "I hafta do it. I set it up…"

"Hotch, they'll be okay without your guidance." She said, watching while he shook his head again.

"Nope," he said, "Just…nope." He dissolved into a fit of laughter.

"Okay," Lisa said, rolling her eyes, "I'm cancelling that call…"

"No," he insisted, standing up. She watched as he braced himself, fighting against the dizziness. "I'm good."

"Hotch…" she softly said, "Just let me call Pen. We'll postpone the call until tomorrow. I promise, I'll make sure you're not stoned tomorrow, okay?"

"I'm not stoned," he insisted, "I'm perfectly fine."

"Okay, if you say so," she laughed, as he tried to walk and found his steps unsteady.

"My lack of balance is caused by my ear…" he insisted, staggering across the room. "I think I should take a shower."

"You can't get water in your ear until they take the packing out tomorrow," she cautioned. "Why don't you take a bath?"

A devilish leer crossed his features, "Hm…think you could help?"

"I think I probably should," she sniffed, "You might just drown."

"You just want to get me naked in the tub," he said, as she helped him into the bathroom.

"Yeah, that's it…" she said, standing him in front of the sink.

She waited while he brushed his teeth. After he finished he turned to her, "Now, it's time to get naked."

"You do know that I'm going to have all kinds of shit to hold over you head after today, don't you?" she laughed, helping him to remove his t-shirt. She tossed it into the laundry basket and said, "Can you take off your own pants?"

"I think I need you to help me," he said, with a snickering laugh.

"I think you're milking this whole thing," she said, "But, if a shower straightens you out…" She hooked her fingers into the waist band of his sweatpants and pulled them and his underwear down to his ankles. She bent over to help him step out of them and as she stood up, she found her face at groin level. He was, she discovered, very happy to see her. "Oh, no you don't."

"Come on, Sexy Momma," he said, the words sounding just wrong coming out of his mouth. "You know you want a piece of this…"

Trying her hardest to hold back the laughter that threatened to roll out, she stood up. "What the hell are you doing?"

"I'm trying to be all slick and shit…" he said, pulling her close, "You know, like Morgan. All the ladies love his lines."

"Aaron Michael Hotchner," she admonished, his expression causing her to laugh harder.

"Uh oh, she used my full name," he laughed with her.

"Please don't try the Morgan bit again, okay? It's just wrong."

He grinned at her, "Yeah, you know I'm sexier than he is. I've got skills of my own."

"Sure you do," she agreed, as he kissed her, his hands sliding under her sweatshirt. "Hotch; we're not doing this…"

"Come on," he said, kissing her again. "It's not like I could get you pregnant," he laughed. "Cuz I already did that."

"Yeah, you did," she nodded, deciding to give into his wishes, in the hope that it sobered him up some, she said, "Okay, we can do this but you've got to promise, no more Morgan lines."

Backing her up against the sink, he smiled, "I promise…"

XXXXX

Walking into the kitchen, Lisa flipped open her cell phone and dialed a familiar number. After two rings, the line was answered.

"You have reached the Queen of all Knowledge, speak now," Garcia's voice began.

"Hey, Pen," she began with a laugh, as she took a can of Diet Pepsi from the refrigerator.

"Ginger Snap!" Garcia excitedly said, "How's our patient?"

"Feeling no pain," Lisa laughed, popping open the can.. "Now."

"Oh no…"

"I had to take him back to the ER last night," she explained, "The pressure in his ear was just killing him, so they gave him a shot of morphine and sent us home."

"Morphine?" Garcia asked,

"Yeah," she tiredly said, "And all that did was dull the ache. He was still all restless and uncomfortable, so at like 3:45 I gave him a Percocet."

"So, is the Boss Man comatose?"

"Far from it. He sounds like a total stoner," she finally allowed herself to laugh.

"Hotch?" Garcia asked, in disbelief. "Our Hotch? Aaron Hotchner?"

"Yes, Pen, our Hotch," she let the laugher out. "He's totally looped. He's just prattling on about nonsense and laughing at everything he says."

"Our Hotch," Garcia repeated, clearly in a state of shock.

"Yes, Pen," she laughed harder. "Actually, I'm hoping he's crashed out by the time I get back upstairs. I managed to get him out of bed and into a bath, thinking that would sober him up."

"A bath?"

"No shower until the packing comes out of his ear tomorrow," she explained.

"Oh, he must've loved that. Mr. I'm In Control had to take a bath?" Garcia laughed.

"Oh, he enjoyed it…"

"I don't need to hear the details," Garcia giggled. "So, I guess I should cancel the conference call?"

"Postpone it," she said, "He'll be okay after the doctor's tomorrow morning."

XXXXX

David Rossi sat at a desk in the Tacoma County Sherriff's office, studying crime scene pictures. They were scheduled for a 2 pm conference call with Hotch and he wanted to have something, anything to tell him.

Hearing his cell phone ring, he flipped it open and placed it to his ear. "Rossi," he barked.

"Dave!" Hotch's voice began.

"Hotch, how are you? How was the surgery?"

"Surgery sucks, Dave," Hotch said, then laughed, "No, I take that back. If it sucked, I'd have enjoyed it."

Rossi laughed, "What kind of pain killers did they give you?"

"Percocets," Hotch answered, then, "Oh yeah, and morphine last night at the ER."

"Shit," Rossi laughed. "You're feeling no pain."

"Actually, I'm fine," he insisted. "That's why I called. Lisa's gonna call Garcia and cancel our call at two."

"Probably a good idea," Rossi mused. He'd seen his old friend drunk on more than a couple of occasions, but never had he seen him high or stoned. That just wasn't something Hotch would do.

"Shit, Dave, I'm fine!" he said, in the same manner that drunks pulled over by the Highway Patrol insist they could drive. "Really…"

"Hotch, you're on Percocets and Morphine…"

"Shit, remember that bar in Los Angeles? They had those friggin' shots they called morphine?"

Rossi remembered the night very clearly. He and Max had poured both Lisa and Hotch back to the hotel, no mean feat considering they were just as loaded. "Those things were lethal."

"Those things have nothing on the shit they gave me!" he laughed, "Man, I'm so fucked up."

XXXXX

As Lisa walked back to the master bedroom, she heard Hotch speaking. He was very clearly having a conversation with someone, which meant either he'd totally lost it or he'd called someone. Both choices were not positive, so she quickened her pace and walked into the room.

He lay back on the bed, his cell phone against his good ear.

"Hotch, who are you talking to?" she asked.

He looked at her, eyes wide, as if he'd gotten caught with his hand in the cookie jar, then laughed. "I'm talkin' to my friend, Dave."

"Dave," Lisa repeated, "Dave Rossi?"

"No…Dave-raham Lincoln," he replied, cracking himself up.

"Give me the phone," Lisa said, holding out her hand.

"No, I'm talking to my friend…"

"Hotch," she warned, "Do you want Dave to hear me beat you up and take your phone?"

"He's laughing," Hotch snickered, then into the phone, "She's taking my phone."

"Trust me," she said, snatching the phone from his hand, "You will thank me for this." Placing the phone to her ear she spoke, "Dave?" she began, hearing Rossi's chuckling in reply.

"You've got your hands full, Little Girl," he said.

"Who're you tellin', Rossi?" she sighed.

"If I weren't clear across the country, I'd come help you out," he sincerely said.

"Nah," she dismissed, "The day I can't handle Aaron Hotchner is the day I hang it up."

"Call me later, after he crashes," Rossi said.

"I will, bye," she repeated, flipping the phone shut and turning her attention to her husband, who, much to her pleasure, was starting to look very tired. "And just what do you have to say for yourself?" she asked.

He yawned, "I'm crashing," he decided, then laughed.

"You," she began, pulling the blankets up over his legs, "Are so damn lucky I love you."

"You love me," he smiled, his eyes fighting to stay open.

"Yeah, I do," she bent and kissed his forehead. "Just crash, okay?"

"'kay," he said, and just that quickly, he was out.

XXXXX

Lisa settled on the sofa with a pint of Ben and Jerry's Cherry Garcia ice cream and the remote control. She was tired, but just couldn't shut down, do she decided to sit and watch some television. She'd checked in on Hotch nearly an hour ago and he was sleeping peacefully.

As she flipped through the 325 channels on her digital cable box, she heard footsteps on the hardwood floor. She turned to find Hotch walking across the room.

"Hey there," she began with a smile. "What are you doing up?"

He sat down next to her, "I woke up and wanted something to eat." He took the spoon and dug up a large spoonful of ice cream, then placed it in his mouth. Swallowing, he grimaced. "That's not it."

"I'll make you something…" she said, studying his face.

"What?"

"You're not stoned anymore," she teased.

Hotch winced, "How bad was I?"

"Do you remember any of it?"

"Not much…" he said, leaning his head back against the sofa and closing his eyes. "I remember you waking me up and then I took a bath." He looked at her, "Was the bathroom sex real?"

"Yes," she laughed, "It was real."

"Good," he tried a smile, "I didn't think I made that one up."

"Do you remember calling Dave?"

"I called Dave? Oh shit. What did I do?"

"You sounded like a total stoner," she laughed.

'Wonderful," he shook his head.

"He got a good laugh out of it," she mused, standing up.

"One more thing he's got on me," he muttered.

"And what does that mean?" she asked, looking at him.

He shook his head, standing up. "I'm starving. What are you making me?"

She knew he was avoiding something, but she decided to let it go, for now. Instead, she held out her hand, "Come on, let's go see what you're in the mood for."


	5. Aunt Lisa's Having a Baby

_**There are no secrets better kept than the secrets everybody guesses.**_

_**George Bernard Shaw**_

_**1856-1950, Irish-born British Dramatist**_

Lisa O'Reilly Hotchner sat in the crowded waiting room. Although her lap held her laptop, on which she really should have been working, she found herself stealing glances at the other women in the room. Most of them were in various stages of pregnancy and she found herself fascinated by their stomachs.

As she casually scanned the room, comparing the various sizes and shapes, she cast her eyes down, taking in her own softly bulging stomach. Where it was nothing compared to some of the women sitting near her, it was expanding and much to her chagrin, she was growing out of her clothing.

Casting her eyes back to her lap top, she immersed herself in the file in front of her, trying to focus on work instead of the women around her.

XXXXX

Hayley Hotchner walked into the crowded waiting room. She hated going for her yearly gynecologist visit. She wasn't sure what she disliked more, the exam itself or waiting for her visit in a room full of pregnant women.

She remembered what it was like, sitting there, hands on her swollen stomach, caught up in the joy of new life. She'd been there before and hopefully, if things continued to progress with Steven, she'd be there again. She didn't want Jack to be an only child.

She walked to the main desk and signed in. As she did, her eyes were drawn to a name three lines above hers. "Lisa Hotchner" the neat script read. Casually looking around, she found Lisa, sitting clear across the room, working on her laptop.

Hayley took her seat on the opposite side of the room and picked up a copy of McCall's. As she read an article on how to clean your house using all natural products, she heard the door open. Lifting her eyes, she was surprised to find Aaron walking in.

XXXXX

Standing in the doorway to the waiting room, Aaron Hotchner scanned the room for a moment, then, after he found Lisa, walked over and took the empty seat to her left.

"Sorry, I'm late," he said, kissing her cheek. "My meeting ran long."

"It's okay," she returned, "I haven't been in to see the doctor yet."

"Good, I was afraid I'd missed it," he nodded, looking over her shoulder at the laptop. He winced, "Isn't that the serial from Hawaii?"

She nodded, "Yeah, look at the burn patterns, they're the same on every body…"

He noticed the curious looks of the two women sitting closest to them and nearly laughed. The woman closest to them, who was obviously nearing the end of her pregnancy, was reading a Nicholas Sparks book. The woman next to her, who wasn't quite as far along, was reading "Parents" Magazine. Lisa was looking at crime scene photos. He smiled. That was Lisa, always marching to a totally different drummer.

"What's that look for?" she asked, brow raised, wry smile in place.

He kissed her cheek again, "Crime scene photos at the obstetrician's office?"

"I'm working," she returned, with a shrug, obviously seeing nothing wrong with it.

He opened his mouth to reply, but was cut off by a very familiar voice.

"Aaron, Lisa," Hayley's voice began.

Hotch turned and offered her a smile, "Hayley."

"Hello, Hayley," Lisa replied, with a smile of her own.

"Funny running into you here," Hayley continued, with a smile that he saw right through. She was fishing for answers and he wasn't going to volunteer a thing.

"I didn't know you still saw Dr. Bergen," Lisa replied, making a stab at politeness. Hotch wondered if the pregnancy was softening his wife.

"I do," she agreed, then, "I have to hand it to you Lisa, you really must be something special. Aaron never made the time to join me at any of my routine doctor's appointments."

He watched, as Lisa closed her lap top, then fixed Hayley with an exaggeratedly sweet smile, before saying, "Well, you see, Hayley, this isn't a routine visit. I'm here for my 10 week check up and Aaron's here because we just might get to hear the baby's heartbeat today."

Hotch held back a laugh, glad to see that Lisa hadn't softened at all.

"Baby," Hayley said, as if digesting the information. "You're pregnant."

"Yes," Lisa nodded, still wearing the sweet smile.

"Wow…congratulations," she replied. Then, with a falsely sweet smile of her own, "Well, Aaron, you've really done well for yourself. New wife, new house, new baby, but you still have the same job. Better luck this time…"

Lisa opened her mouth to reply, but the nurse's voice interrupted her.

"Mrs. Hotchner?"

Both Lisa and Hayley turned and said, "Yes?"

Hotch winced, feeling the eyes of the other women in the office upon him.

"Lisa Hotchner," the nurse clarified.

Lisa slipped her laptop into her bag and stood. "Have a good day, Hayley," she said, then looked at him. "Are you coming, Hotch?"

"Right behind you," he replied, standing. He turned to Hayley, "I'll pick Jack up at pre -school by five and drop him off by six on Sunday."

"Don't be late," she called after him, "He has pre school on Monday."

XXXXX

After donning the paper examination gown and getting weighed, Lisa returned to the exam room to find Hotch sitting, flipping through a copy of Cosmopolitan.

"Cosmo?" she laughed, "Find anything interesting?"

"Yes, actually," he smartly returned, pointing to the page in front of him, "Did you know that 6 out of 10 guys secretly like it when you don't shave your legs for a day or two?"

She raised a brow, "Really?"

He shrugged, "That's what it says."

"And are you one of the six or one of the four?"

Closing the magazine, he smiled at her, "You tell me."

"You're one of the four," she nodded. "You like that whole shaving thing."

"Hell yeah, I do," he nodded. "What's not to like?"

"They actual chore of shaving?" she rolled her eyes, "Which is why I switched to waxing. Damn…guess I won't be waxing for a while…"

"Why not?"

"Hotch, how would it look for me to waddle into the salon and ask for a Brazilian? You can suffer for a while," she sniffed.

"Fine, but as soon as the baby's born, you're heading back to the salon," he returned.

"So," she said, pulling the conversation out of her nether regions, "You haven't said a word about Hayley."

"What am I going to say?" he asked, setting the magazine on the counter. "She knows. Now, I'm sure, the fun will begin."

Lisa opened her mouth to reply, but was interrupted by the doctor.

"Aaron, Lisa," Ben Bergen began with a smile. "Glad to see you both. How have you been feeling, Lisa?"

"The morning sickness sucks, Ben," she sniffed.

"I know," Bergen nodded, "But your weight's good, your blood pressure's good. You just have to ride it out for another week or so. I promise you," he winked, "It will go away."

"I'm holding you to that."

"I expect you to," he laughed, opening her gown to expose her stomach. He did a manual exam and smiled, "This little one is coming along fine from this angle. Shall we take a look?"

"Sounds like a plan," Lisa smiled, looking over to Hotch. He was standing back, taking it all in. "You coming over?"

"Didn't want to get in Ben's way," he said, standing near the head of the exam table.

"Okay," Bergen said, "Here comes the cold…" he squeezed some gel on her stomach, and then used the ultrasound wand to distribute it. With his other hand, he flipped on the machine. "And…here's the baby…"

"Still looks like an alien," Hotch gently teased, squeezing her hand. "Must take after your side of the family."

"Very funny, Hotchner," she faux glared at him.

"Heart's beating good and strong," Bergen went on, "Everything is developing at the proper pace." He looked up at them, "Let me grab another angle shot and then we'll break out the Doppler and see if we can hear the heartbeat yet." He moved the wand about a bit more. "Okay, let's see what we can do." Pulling out another wand, he used it to move the gel a bit, "Don't be concerned if we don't hear it yet. This is right about the point when we can start to pick it up, but it doesn't always work. You could see from the ultrasound that the heart's beating well, so we know all is well." He pulled the wand slowly over her stomach and then stopped. With a smile, he turned up the volume filling the room with a rhythmic sound that was between a heartbeat and a "whoosh".

"Is that it?" Lisa asked, feeling a smile spreading across her lips.

"That's it," Hotch replied, remembering the sound from Jack. He was smiling and squeezing her hand.

"That's it," Bergen winked, "Remember that sound, Aaron?"

"Now I do," he softly said.

"This little one's heart is good and strong," Bergen concluded, turning off the machine. He wiped the gel from Lisa's stomach and closed her gown. "I want to see you back in a month. By then, the morning sickness should be a thing of the past and you'll probably be thinking about purchasing some maternity clothes."

"Maternity clothes?" she winced.

Bergen laughed, "Ah, denial, even after you heard the heartbeat?"

"Ben, I'm going to be dragging her kicking and screaming into the maternity department," Hotch laughed, squeezing Lisa's hand.

XXXXX

Lisa sat at her desk, stifling a yawn. She knew she should go home, but there was so much work to be done. Since she'd taken two hours to go to the OB/GYN today, she felt even more behind.

Three of her agents were preparing to testify in three separate trials, four law enforcement agencies were asking for missing child searches, add to that the normal day to day requests and everyone in CASMIRC was working over time.

Being the Senior Agent, she couldn't leave them there, swamped and working over time. Of course, being a pregnant woman, she wanted nothing more than to go home and lay down. Unfortunately, no one but David Rossi knew about her pregnancy, or they would have probably encouraged her to at least work from home, where she would be comfortable.

She wasn't ready to tell them, though. Not until she got through the first trimester. Once she did, things would be fine and she'd tell them everything. But, she had another week or so before she reached that plateau; so instead, she sucked it up and kept working. Sure, she'd still have to come in tomorrow, but with Thursday being Thanksgiving, maybe she could duck out early to get ready for Thanksgiving Dinner. At least, she mused, Hotch would have some time alone with Jack tomorrow while she worked.

Sighing, she sipped her green tea and returned to her research. As she poured through case files, her eyes filled with the graphic images of murdered children, she became aware of someone entering her office. Pulling her eyes up quickly, she smiled when she spotted Jack, walking into the office.

"Aun' Lisa!" he squealed, running to her.

"Jack!" she laughed, as he jumped into her arms. "What are you doing here?"

"Me and Daddy bringed you dinner!"

"You did?"

"We did," Hotch's voice began from the doorway. He held up a bag. "Five Guys burgers."

She winced. They were her very favorite burgers, until her unborn child decided to turn her digestive system inside out. Just the thought of a burger made her green around the gills.

"Thank you?" she tried, hoping to be convincing.

"Aun' Lisa," Jack said, sitting in one of the chairs in front of her desk, "I gots a burger too."

"Did you?" she smiled, as Hotch handed her a foil wrapped burger. "I can't…"

"Lisa…" he replied, worry creeping across his face.

"I'm sorry," she quietly said, "I haven't been able to eat since lunch time."

"If you're sick," he returned, "Maybe you need to be home instead of here."

"I'm not sick, Hotch," she reminded him. "I'm just dealing with what your baby's doing to my digestive system."

"Aun' Lisa," Jack began, pulling her attention from her husband.

"What's up, Jack?"

"Does Daddy got a baby?"

"Does Daddy have what?" she repeated, exchanging a glance with Hotch.

"You said you was dealin' with Daddy's baby. Where's the baby?" he asked, curiosity clearly peeked.

Hotch laughed, "We'll talk about it later, okay, Bud?"

"No, Daddy," he said, shaking his head, "I wanna meet the baby. My friend Trip gots a baby at his house and it cries all the time. I don't hear crying. Where'd you put the baby?"

"Jack," Lisa began, "If we tell you something, can you promise to keep it a secret?"

He nodded, excitedly. "You gonna tell me where the baby is?"

Hotch walked over and crouched down next to where Jack sat. "Aunt Lisa is going to have a baby."

His eyes grew wide and he looked at her, "It's in your tummy?!"

"Where'd you learn about that, Bud?" Hotch asked, with a raised brow.

"Layla's mommy has a baby in her tummy, but it's really big…" Jack said, looking at Lisa, "Aun' Lisa's not big."

"Not yet, Jack," she smiled, "But as the baby grows, I will get bigger. But nobody knows about the baby yet, so we're not going to tell them, okay?"

He nodded, this brows furrowed in thought. He turned to Hotch, "Daddy? Dat's your baby, right?"

Hotch nodded, "Yes, Jack."

"I was your baby, too?"

"Yes, but you're not a baby any more, you're a big boy. This baby's going to be your brother or sister," he went on.

Jack nodded, "I want a brother."

"We don't get to pick, Jack," Lisa gently laughed.

"Oh, okay…" he shrugged, then, "When's the baby coming out?"

"June," Lisa said, "After your Pre School Graduation."

"C'n I hold it?" he asked.

Lisa nodded, "And you can feed it, and play with it, too. You can do all the stuff a big brother does."

"Do you have a big brother?"

"I do," she nodded, "His name is Michael. You'll meet him on Thursday."

"Daddy," Jack said, looking up at his father, "You have a little brother, right?"

Hotch nodded, "Uncle Sean. He'll be there on Thursday, too."

Jack nodded, "C'n I eat my burger now?"

"Need some help?" Hotch asked, watching as Jack tore open the tinfoil and took a bite. "Never mind."

"What were you thinking, Dad?" Lisa laughed.

"I was thinking," he said, sitting on the edge of her desk. "That you should let us take you home."

"It's tempting," she smiled at him.

"I can be very convincing," he said, with a playful leer.

"Not with your son in the room," she countered. "But, I guess I'll follow you guys home."

"I knew you'd see it my way," he winked, "I've just got to stop by my desk. I left my cell phone charger."

"Jack," Lisa said, looking over to find him balling up the tin foil from his burger. "Are you done?"

He nodded, the swallowed, "Yup…Daddy, can we still get ice cream?"

"Yeah, Daddy, ice cream really sounds good right now," Lisa seriously said, deciding she really could go for some. She watched as a broad smile crossed his features, knowing her request was its cause.

"I think a visit to Coldstone Creamery on the way home is in order."

"Yay! Coldstone!" Jack cheered.

"Yeah, yay, Coldstone!" Lisa echoed.


	6. Nothing’s Wrong, She’s Just Pregnant

**Author's Note: This chapter would not exist if not for the amazing outlining skills of Tonnie! She is the Goddess of Outlining and I would be lost without her. Also, I would be lost with out the friendship and guidance of Susan and Tracia - both of whom are excellent writers in their own right! And, I cannot forget Annika - a new friend, who always offers her thoughts and friendship!!! And finally, thank you to all of those who read and review!**

_**T**__**he bond that links your true family is not one of blood, but of respect and joy in each other's life. Rarely do members of one family grow up under the same roof.**__**Richard David Bach **_

Lisa O'Reilly Hotchner blotted her face with a wet paper towel, being careful not to smear her mascara. Not that it mattered, she thought, she already looked like yesterday's dog shit.

Dr Ben had told her this morning sickness stuff wouldn't last much longer, but she wondered what "much longer" meant in his dictionary. Hearing the bathroom door open, she turned to find Penelope Garcia walking into the room.

Spotting Lisa, Garcia's expression quickly became one of concern and she walked over.

"Oh, Gingersnap," she soothed, "You look like someone colored you with the wrong crayon."

"I feel it, Pen," she agreed, stopping before she blurted out anything further.

Garcia placed a hand to her forehead, "You're not feverish…did you get sick again?"

Raising a brow, Lisa looked at her friend, "How'd you know about that?"

"Darling, the entire 3rd floor knows that you've been getting sick a couple of times a say…"

"They do?"

Garcia nodded.

"What does the rumor mill say, Pen?" she winced.

"Well, most of it has you pregnant…"

"They do?" she asked, finding herself welling up with tears and cursing the hormones that were coursing through her. "Tell me they don't."

"Oh, Gingersnap, don't cry," She said, "You know how that rumor mill is…" Garcia stopped, a smile crossing her face. "You are, aren't you?"

Lisa nodded, grabbing a paper towel and wiping her eyes. "Yeah…I was hoping to keep it quiet until I finished my first trimester."

"Which will be when?" Garcia excitedly asked.

"December 3…" Lisa sniffed. "I'm due in June."

"And does Hotch know?"

She nodded again, tears flowing again.

Garcia grew concerned, "He's not happy?"

"Oh, no, Pen, he's thrilled," Lisa quickly said, "I'm just all hormonal and stuff. And I've decided that whoever named this morning sickness was completely wrong. They should have named it "Hit You Any Damn Time of the Day or Night" sickness."

"What can I do to help?

"Nothing will help, Pen," she signed, "Except maybe having this baby or skipping the upcoming holidays."

"Are you planning a big family dinner tomorrow?"

She nodded, "We were. But I just don't know that I can do this. I mean, he's so looking forward to getting both families together for the first time." She shook her head, "So, what are you up to tomorrow?"

"Morgan is coming over again this year and I plan on forcing him to watch the entire season of Dr Who in one day while I feed him my secret recipe brownies. Why? Do you have something else in mind?"

Lisa smiled, "I do. Why don't you come to our house?"

Garcia grinned, "Of course, and we'll arrive early so I can help you prepare?"

"Oh, you would so be on my Sainthood list, Pen. My sister-in-law is coming and I'm just not sure I can handle her without back up."

"And Morgan can watch football with the boys," she concluded.

"Or help Hotch with the turkey."

Garcia laughed, "Hotch is making the turkey?"

She nodded, "He swears he can make the best turkey outside of the Cordon Bleu. Of course, since I wouldn't know how to even get the damn thing into the oven, I've got no other option. So, what do you say, Pen? Will you come?"

"A heard of wild wildebeest couldn't keep me away!"

XXXXX

Lisa stood in the kitchen, watching while Hotch leaned over the oven, fussing with the turkey baster. "Are you sure this is what you're supposed to do?"

"I'm positive," he nodded, soaking up the liquid on the bottom of the ban and pouring it over the turkey. "You have to baste it in its own juices and the melted butter."

She shrugged, "I'm just not so sure that anyone needs to have that much of a love affair with melted butter, that's all."

"Dad, can I do it?" Jack asked, from his position on a high stool near the breakfast bar.

"It's hot, Bud," Hotch replied, shaking his head, "I don't want you to get burned."

Watching as Jack's brows furrowed into a frown, Lisa smiled, "Hey, Jack, want to help me snap the beans?"

Remembering how much fun it was to actually get to break something without getting yelled at; Jack nodded, "Okay!"

As Lisa walked to the refrigerator, the doorbell rang. Forgetting all about the green beans, Jack took off for the door.

"Jack, wait for me!" Hotch called, closing the oven and following his son out of the kitchen.

He found him excitedly bouncing in front of the etched glass door.

"Who is it, Dad?" Jack asked.

"Don't know, Bud, why don't we open the door and find out?" he winked, pulling open the door to reveal Garcia and Morgan. "Hey Guys, come on in. You need help carrying anything?"

"Oh, hell," Morgan groused, "It's gonna take us half a dozen trips to the car to bring in everything she brought."

"Hush, you," Garcia dismissed, walking into the house, "You were the one who insisted I make your momma's recipe for sweet potato pie." Spotting Jack, she smiled, "Hello, Jack!"

"Hi, Ms. Garcia," Jack grinned back.

"Where's Aunt Lisa?"

"In the kitchen, come on," he said, scampering off, with Garcia in tow.

"You really have six trips worth of stuff in the car?" Hotch winced.

"Nah, man, we can get it in one, come on," he laughed.

XXXXX

Lisa was busy rinsing off the green beans when Jack and Garcia walked into the kitchen.

"Aun' Lisa!" Jack excitedly said, "Ms. Garcia's here!"

"Hello, Pen," Lisa smiled, looking up from the sink to find Garcia's arms full. "What did you make?"

"You said to make desert," Garcia explained, setting the tinfoil covered pie plate on the counter, "So I made chocolate chip cookies, sugar cookies, brownies, and Derek's momma's sweet potato pie."

"Damn, were you up all night baking?"

"Just about," she dismissed with a wave of her hand. "What can I do to help you?"

"I think we're good right now," Lisa nodded, setting the bowl full of beans on the kitchen table. "Jack, here are the beans."

"'kay," he said, climbing on a chair and kneeling. "What I do?"

Lisa picked up a bean and demonstrated, "You break off both of the ends, and throw them into this bowl. Then, you break the rest of the bean in half and toss it into this pot, okay?"

He nodded, his expression solemn, "Okay…"

"Can I get you something to drink or something?" Lisa offered.

"I can find it myself," Garcia returned, studying her friend. "Were you sick again this morning?"

"Very early," she said, "But I have been so busy since that I haven't had time to think. Between Hotch and his turkey, and running around after Jack…oh, and my father."

"He's here?"

"Not yet, but I've been on the phone with him three times this morning. He started at 7:30. Whining about having to ride with my brother and his wife."

"Brynne, the ice queen?"

Lisa nodded, "He starts in on the fact that he can't understand how Mikey could marry a bitch like that. Then, he says," she dropped her voice a couple of octaves and said, "She's just cold, Lise, cold. She gives ice a bad name."

Garcia laughed, having met Lisa's dad before and knowing the imitation was not far off.

"So, I suggested that he ride with my little sister and her husband and he tells me he'd like to arrive alive which he wouldn't do with them driving because Mario couldn't obey the speed limit if St Peter himself came down and sat on his steering wheel."

"Sounds like your dad," Garcia agreed. "Hey, maybe Little Hotch will turn out to be a Little O'Reilly, and take after her grandfather?"

"Oh, no," Hotch's voice began, causing them both to turn towards the doorway to find the men walking in with the contents of Garcia's car. "Tell me your father hasn't called gain?"

"No," she laughed, taking a tray of cookies from his hand before it slipped. "I'm just bringing Pen up to speed on my morning."

"So, who all's coming to this shindig?" Morgan asked, setting the bags he'd held down on the counter.

"My dad, my brother and his family, my sister and her husband, Hotch's brother and his wife…" she looked at him, "That's it, right?"

"My mother said she may come," he offered.

"Only if she doesn't get a better offer," Lisa muttered, and then smiled at her husband.

XXXXX

To Lisa's surprise, dinner went amazingly well. They managed to fit all of the family around the table, there was more than enough food, and the turkey that her husband promised would be amazing, truly was amazing.

What she found even more amazing was that the Hotchner's and the O'Reilly's were getting along so well. She had no doubt that Sean and Marina would bond instantly with her brother and sister, and even Penelope and Derek had joined in the fray.

She had no worries about the day until Hotch's mother showed up, on time, bearing a bottle of very expensive wine and a chocolate cake that Lisa would have given her left arm for. Lisa worried that Patricia Hotchner would not fit in.

That worry went away somewhere during dinner, when Pat O'Reilly and Pat Hotchner, bonded over more than their name. The two of them became thick as thieves, sharing the bottle of wine and many embarrassing stories of their children's childhood years.

Standing alone in her kitchen, Lisa watched the group as they decompressed from dinner. The men had settled in the living room, gathered around whatever football game happened to be on and once the table had been cleared and leftovers stored safely in the refrigerator, the women had joined them.

Lisa lagged behind, wanting a moment of quiet, wanting to take it all in.

"I'd say everything went well," Hotch's voice began.

She turned to find him walking in from the back deck, "I didn't know you were out there."

"Went out for more beer," he explained, setting a few bottles on the table. "You look tired."

"I'm okay," she smiled, as he took her into his arms. "Our parents have bonded, Hotch. That's scary."

"I know," he laughed, "They're actually getting along."

"And your mother is laughing," she went on, with a wry twinkle in her eyes, "I had serious doubts that she could smile more than once a year, let alone laugh."

"It usually only comes out when Jack's involved," he admitted, "I bet she'll smile when she hears about the new baby."

She nodded; "I know, I wanted to say something all day…but…" she looked at him plaintively.

"I know," he nodded, kissing her forehead. "You want to wait. I agree. We'll tell them at Christmas."

"Christmas?" she asked, feigning alarm. "You want to do this again?"

"Why not? This was a success," he shrugged.

"I don't know," she began, looking back out at the living room. "Look at them all…" she began, feeling the evil hormonal tears welling up again.

He saw it as well and grew concerned, "Lisa?"

She shook her head, trying her hardest not to give in to the emotions that were forcing themselves out.

"Talk to me. What is it? Did I say something?"

She knew she shouldn't have opened her mouth; she needed to keep her lips pressed close together, so that the emotions would stay bottled up. Yet, despite what her brain told her, her mouth opened, wanting only to utter the word "No", but instead, letting out a sob.

"Hotchner, where the hell did you go for the beer?" her brother Mike's voice began, as he walked into the kitchen. Fixing Hotch with a deadly look that only a protective older brother could give, he said, "What did you do to her?"

"Nothing," Hotch returned, sincerely hoping that he was telling the truth and that his desire to host Christmas dinner was not the cause of her tears. "She just started crying."

"My sister does not just start crying," he said, walking over to her. "Lise, what is it?"

Lisa shook her head and as she opened her mouth to answer, her father walked in.

"Jesus," he said, "A man could go dry out there waiting for a beer." Spotting his daughter in tears, surrounded by her obviously concerned and confused husband and her older brother who was giving said husband a glare that should have rendered him lifeless. "Lisa Rose, what's going on?"

"I don't know," she sobbed harder, upset that everyone was funneling into the kitchen to see the spectacle.

"My oldest daughter does not cry like that unless something's wrong," Pat continued.

"What's wrong?" Lisa's younger sister, Kelli DiGori asked, walking into the room. "Lise…talk to me." Kelli looked at her brother, "What the hell's going on, Mikey?"

"I walked in here and she was crying," Mike explained, glaring at Hotch, "Neither one of them will tell me why."

"Lisa? Oh, Gingersnap," Garcia said, walking into the room, "Are you okay, Sweetheart?"

"This one must've said something to her," Mike hissed, jerking his head at Hotch.

Lisa looked at her husband, sending him a silent message with her eyes. Hoping that he would understand that there wasn't anything wrong and this was just a side effect of what Little Hotch was doing to her body.

He didn't get it; instead, he turned to Mike and said, "Honest to Christ, Mike, she just started crying. I didn't say a damn thing to her."

"I don't know, Aaron," Pat O'Reilly said, his eyes flicking between his daughter and her husband, "My little girl's not a crier."

Having had more than enough of their insinuations and the effect they were having on Lisa, who was still crying, he opened his mouth and shot out, "Can you all just back off and let her be for a minute? Nothing's wrong, she's just pregnant."

Silence fell over the room and Hotch watched as Lisa's eyes grew wide. It was then that he realized the words that he'd uttered. "Oh, shit…" he quietly said.

"Lisa Rose is this true?" her father finally asked.

"Yes, Daddy," she replied, sniffing back the end of her tears, "We were waiting until I was finished my first trimester to tell you all…just in case."

Pat O'Reilly looked at his new son-in-law and grinned, patting him on the back. "I take back what I was just thinkin' about you, Aaron."

"Thanks, I think?" Hotch laughed.

Mike looked at him and awkwardly said, "Yeah, me too, Man. I…you know, my sister was crying."

"I get it," Hotch nodded, "No harm, no foul."

"Did I just hear that I'm going to be a grandmother again?" Patricia Hotchner said, from her position in the doorway.

"Yes, Mom," Hotch returned, seriously, bracing for her reaction.

She looked down at Jack, who was grinning. "Did you know about this, Young Man?"

"Yes, Gramma," he nodded, then, "The baby's in Aun' Lisa's tummy. It's not big enough to come out yet."

"And what do you think about this?" she asked, watching as her grandson bounced up and down excitedly.

"I'm happy!"

Patricia Hotchner smiled broadly, picking up her grandson and kissing his cheek, "Well then, so am I!"

XXXXX

It was nearly midnight when Hotch finally walked into the bedroom. Sending Lisa to bed around ten, he finished restoring the house to its normal order and waited to hear that everyone had made it home safely.

"I was wondering when you'd make it up here," Lisa said, pulling his eyes to the bed.

"The house looks almost like it did before today," he mused, stripping off his clothes. "And everyone made it home safe and sound."

"And Jack?" she yawned, as he slipped under the covers next to her.

"Sound asleep," he said, pulling her into his arms, "Despite the amount of sugar he ingested today."

"He was tired," she dismissed, resting her head on his shoulder.

They lay for a moment before he said, "So, are you pissed at me?"

"For?"

"For blurting out the fact that you're pregnant?" he sheepishly asked.

She shook her head, "Nah that was my fault. Those freaking hormones just came out at the wrong moment."

"I really thought your brother was going to kick my ass there for a moment," he admitted, with a laugh.

"Oh, he would have, too," she agreed, "You did the right thing."

He kissed her softly. "And by this time next year…"

"I'll be lugging around a 5 month old, not puking and crying," she grinned. "I'm so looking forward to that."

"Me, too," he softly said.


	7. The Wet TShirt Picture

"_**Don't marry someone you would not be friends with if there was no sex between you."**_

_**William Glasser**_

"Lisa?" Aaron Hotchner called, walking into the foyer.

"Up here!" her voice began, from upstairs.

He walked upstairs to find her in the room they'd designated as her office. "You went upstairs to put on a pair of socks…what are you doing in here?"

"I wanted to measure the room," she said, retracting the tape measure. "I think this might be the best room for the baby. I can take the smaller room as my office."

"You sure about that?"

She nodded, "Yeah, this way we won't have to move him or her later. They can just grow up in this room." She looked around at the walls. She'd hidden their stark white color by hanging the many awards and plaques she'd been given over her FBI career.

"I don't know if the other bedroom will have enough wall space for all of your accolades," he gently teased, stepping up behind her and slipping his arms around her.

"Then they will go into a box," she firmly said, "I just put them up so I wouldn't have to decide on a color to paint the walls." She looked back at him, "Walk with me…"

"Where to?" he said, as they walked, in the same position, to the closet.

She opened the door and frowned, "What the hell is in those boxes?"

"I'm not sure," he replied, peering into the closet. "Could be anything."

"Great investigative skills there, Hotch," she snickered, "Way to be the FBI Poster Child."

"Wise ass," he returned, releasing her and stepping closer to the closet.

"We should go through them," she decided.

"Now?"

"What better time is there? We've got nothing else to do."

"I don't know that you should be moving boxes in your condition,"

She fixed him with a smart grin, "Hotch…" she began, shaking her head, "I don't intend on moving anything. That's why I have you around." She ran her hands down his t-shirt covered chest. "Those well concealed muscles of yours will serve just fine for this little project."

"I always suspected that you only wanted me for my body," was his dry reply.

She leaned forward and kissed him, "You know it was your mind that hooked me. But," she allowed, "The body definitely was a bonus. Eye candy is just such a wonderful thing."

He feigned hurt, "I feel so used. Is this what a whore feels like?"

"No, Darling," she returned, sitting on the high backed desk chair, "You're doing this for free. That would make you a slut."

"Thank you for the clarification,"

"Anytime," she nodded, with a smart smile, then, nodding towards the closet, "If you can just stat dragging those boxes out, I'll start going through them." Then, with a playful giggle, "And if you want to do the true eye candy thing, you can lose the shirt."

Rolling his eyes at her, he turned back to the closet. This was the latest facet of Lisa's pregnancy, the one she lovingly referred to as "eat like a pig, screw like a rabbit." It seemed that once the morning sickness finally went away, not only did her appetite return, but it brought along a friend, a fairly constant state of arousal.

Although he promised not to compare Lisa's pregnancy to Hayley's, he knew damn well that his first wife did not experience this particular phase. Dr. Bergen assured them both that not only was this normal, but it could possibly last through the rest of the pregnancy. He wondered, as he lifted the first box out of the closet, if a man could die from too much sex.

"What's that deep in thought look for?" she asked, as he slid the box over to where she sat.

With a laugh he said, "I was just wondering if a man could actually die from too much sex."

She raised a brow, "Why? You feeling suicidal?"

"I'm sure you'd be willing to help me test my theory, wouldn't you?" was his dry return.

"Yeah," she shrugged, taking off the lid, "But I'm not so sure I wouldn't kill myself in the process. So I'm vetoing that idea."

"Chicken," he said, under his breath, sliding box number 2 out of the closet.

"Excuse me?" she laughed, "This from the original chicken?"

"Who, me?"

"Yeah, you, Mr. I'm-Not-Going-To-Tell-My-Best-Friend-I'm-Hot-For-Her-Even-Though-She's-Coming-On-To-Me," she teased.

"I don't think that would fit on my id," he returned. "Besides, you had your own agenda that night. I wasn't about to try and stop you. It would be like trying to stop a speeding freight train."

Ignoring him, she looked up, "Aaron Hotchner is their any particular reason you have saved your tax returns from 1989?"

"In case I'm ever audited."

"The IRS can only go back 6 years," she recited.

"And where did you get that from?"

"I spent a long weekend with a Warrants and Investigations Agent from the IRS," she grinned. "He did my taxes for me…"

"And what did you do for him?" he smartly returned.

"I refuse to answer that question on the grounds I may incriminate myself," was her equally smart reply, "And, we are getting rid of 1989 tax returns, and the 1990 tax returns, and basically the contents of this entire box."

"Fine, just make sure you shred them first."

"I like the shredder," she returned with an evil grin.

"Yeah, I know," he sighed, "Here, box number two. This one is yours."

"And how do you know?"

"Your handwriting across the top of it that says, _Lisa's Documents_."

"Don't ever go by what's written on a box," she dismissed, lifting the lid, "See…these are your old notes from the Academy."

"We are **NOT **shredding them," he concluded, placing the lid back on the box.

"Okay…moving right along…"

XXXXX

While he sorted through the next two boxes, Lisa ran down stairs and grabbed them both water bottles and a box of Vanilla Wafers, her new favorite food. Sitting back down on the desk chair, she opened the box and took out a cookie.

She studied her husband for a moment, watching as he looked through old papers. He sat on the floor in a pair of old jeans and his ancient Tom Petty concert t shirt, his dark hair, normally combed perfectly and held in place by more styling product than people would guess, was free of said product and completely tousled, dark locks falling across his forehead.

He looked years younger and much more relaxed than she guessed anyone at the BAU could ever imagine him looking. She thought for a moment of taking his picture on her cell phone and sending it to Penelope Garcia with a message that said, "See, I told you so," but decided that she'd rather keep this side of him all to herself.

"Are you going to share the cookies with me this time?" Hotch asked, pulling her from her thoughts.

"Yeah, I guess I will." She held the box out to him. As he took a handful of cookies, she said, "I think that next box is mine. Wanna drag it over?"

He nodded, mouth full of cookies, and slid the box to her. As he turned his attention back to the closet, he heard Lisa laugh and say, "Oh, shit..."

"What's so funny?"

"Nuthin'," she laughed.

"Did you find those grade school albums my mother insisted that I take?" he asked, turning to face her, "I refuse to be responsible for how I looked in the third grade. Those plaid bell bottoms were not my idea any more than the red turtleneck."

Lisa grinned, "Nope, this is definitely not third grade. As a matter of fact, I'd say that this is definitely not even third grade appropriate."

XXXXX

He could she that she was holding a picture, but from his angle, he could only see the back. "What do you have, Lisa? Is this something I'm going to have to discuss with my mother? I swear, that woman has kept some pictures just to terrorize me as an adult."

Lisa clutched the picture to her chest, "Nope, it's not you in this picture."

He grinned, "Another picture of you with the Pippi Longstocking braids and the glasses?"

She shook her head, "No. And you can give it up, cuz you're not going to see this one."

"Come on," he laughed, moving over so that he was kneeling next to her, "Give it up."

"Nuh uh," she said, shaking her head.

"I can over power you," he playfully threatened, grasping her hands and trying to pull them from her chest.

"We both had the same training," she countered, with a laugh, "And if you remember, I even took the advanced courses."

"Ah, but did they teach you how to defend yourself against this?" he said, releasing her hands and tickling her sides.

"No fair!" she laughed, squirming to get away from him. "Oh, damn…stop!"

"Give up the picture…"

"Fine, here," she said, releasing her grasp.

Taking the picture, he studied it for a moment, feeling a broad smile cross his lips. "Well, well, well…the very prim and proper, Lisa O'Reilly won first place in the…" He studied the picture for a moment, finally allowing his eyes to take in the back ground, "Carlos and Charlie's wet t-shirt contest" He looked at her, "I thought you said you were all shy and retiring until you joined the Bureau."

She shrugged, "Well, that was Spring Break in Cancun. Nobody's shy and retiring when they've been doing tequila shooters since breakfast."

He stole another glance at the picture, deciding that although she tried to make it seem like an anomaly, this was the Lisa he knew and loved. Her dark red hair was pulled back into a high pony tail and she was wearing a very short pair of denim shorts and a soaking wet white Carlos and Charlie's t-shirt that clung to every blessed curve, showing everyone in the bar just how happy she was to see them. And damn, was she happy to see them.

But despite what she'd think, what he noticed most was the way she was smiling, her green eyes sparkling with that devilish look she wore when she was doing something that she knew would raise eyebrows on the folks back home. He found that look very sexy and his body was reminding him just how sexy.

"Are you trying to commit that to memory?" she laughed, standing up and holding out her hand.

"Sorry," he said with a sheepish grin, handing her the picture, and then standing. "I'm actually kinda sorry I missed this one. Looks like a fun night."

"Oh, it was. But that was way before I met you and probably way before I even thought of joining the Bureau."

"My loss," he nodded, "Although, I think I still would've enjoyed that night."

"I'm sure you would have," she winked, looking at the picture. "I was pretty damn loaded by that point of the night. You probably could have scored pretty damn easy…"

"So…" he asked, casually, "Did you score that night?"

"Believe it or not, no," she replied, a hint of pride in her voice. "And I know you won't believe it, but I was actually still a virgin."

He raised a brow.

"Don't try it, Hotchner," she faux glared, "I told you my ex was my first. Just cuz a woman displays her breasts to half of Cancun does not mean she puts out."

He laughed, "Oh, I'm sure you put out in a few guys fantasies that night."

She swatted him, "Hotch! That's disgusting!"

"But probably true," he mused. "Hell, I'd have been fantasizing like a fool to this picture."

"Really?" she asked, surprising him by her seriousness. "Cuz just that morning, I swore I'd die a virgin, cuz not one guy looked at me the whole trip. They all fawned over my friend, Katie. Long blonde hair, 36C, tan, stood all of 5'3". Then along I came, tall, loud, redheaded Lisa…"

"With gorgeous green eyes, legs that go on forever, and a set of 38C's that just stood up and said hello…"

"Yeah, they did stand up back then, didn't they?" She looked down at her chest, "And after this kid pops out, they're gonna start heading south even more."

"I'm kinda enjoying them now," he slyly said, unzipping the hooded sweat shirt she wore to reveal the form fitting pale pink t-shirt she wore under it. He knew she wasn't wearing a bra. He'd learned a long time ago that when Lisa was just hanging around the house she refused to wear a bra, shoes, or make up. Of course, if someone showed up unexpectedly, she would quickly don all three items, but he wasn't complaining about her current status. Not one bit.

"Of course you are," she laughed, as he slid the sweat shirt from her shoulders, allowing it to drop to the floor. "They're getting bigger every day. I feel like Dolly Freaking Parton and Dr. Ben said they're gonna get even bigger?"

"Maybe we should go to Cancun," he said, reaching over to where her open water bottle sat on the desk. "I bet you'd win hands down."

"Um, Hotch…" she said, wincing, "You forget…" She pointed to her softly swollen stomach.

Despite what she thought, he didn't think she looked pregnant. Not yet. She simply looked like she needed to lose a few pounds. Not that he'd ever tell her that. Instead, he said, "The brunette in your picture had a bigger stomach than you do. And she won second place."

"Well, there is another difference," she went on, "Thanks to you; I'm not allowed any alcohol. And yeah, I may have grown brass balls since then, but I'm sorry, no tequila shooters, no wet t-shirt contest."

"I don't know about that," he returned, holding up the water bottle, "We could have our own private contest."

"And what fun would that be?" she replied, with a smile, her dilated pupils telling him that she was enjoying his suggestion.

"I think it could be a lot of fun," he said, leaning in for a kiss.

"What were you saying about a man dying from too much sex?" she giggled, as he pulled back and slowly poured water over her shirt.

"Damn, I should have grabbed the camera," he replied, stepping back to admire his handy work.

"Why? Need something to fantasize over?"

With an evil grin, he pulled his cell phone from his pocket.

"Hotch," she warned, "No…"

Nodding, he flipped it open and pressed the keys to bring up the camera. "Come on…just one? For when I'm away…"

She laughed, "You mean to tell me you're going to go back to your room, whip out your cell phone, and…come to grips with yourself next time you're away?"

He snapped a picture, and then held the camera back to look at it. "It's a great way to release tension. Yeah, this will do."

"Let me see," she said, reaching for the phone.

"Nope…it's for my fantasy use, not yours," he smartly said, flipping the phone shut and putting it back in his pocket.

"Oh, I see how it is…" she returned, snatching his water bottle from where he left it on the floor and removing the cap.

"What are you going to do with the water?" he asked, although he knew roughly where it would end up.

"I could pour it on your shirt…" she mused, "Or over your head…but I like your hair like that…" Her eyes took on that devilish sparkle, distracting him, while her hands grabbed the waist band of his jeans and stuck the bottle in it, upside down. "I think it's time for a Wet Willie contest."

"Damn that's cold!" he said, pulling the now empty bottle from his jeans. "Couldn't you have warmed the water up first?"

"What fun would that be?" she asked, lifting her Blackberry from the desk and pressing the camera key.

"No…no pictures," he said, reaching for it, but she held him off.

"Fair is fair…"

"Lisa, the picture of you looks hot," he looked down, "This picture will just look like I peed myself."

She looked at him and started to laugh. "Oh, damn…you're right."

"Now, put down the Crackberry," he instructed, using the "disarm the unsub" tone.

"Drop your pants and I might…" she challenged.

"Lisa…"

She shook her head, "Nope. You got a fantasy shot, I want one too. Now, either it's you looking like you peed yourself or you drop them…"

"The things I do for you, you vile woman," he muttered, unbuttoning his jeans, then quickly unzipping them. "Do you need to take a picture?"

"I do…" she nodded, "I can stand here holding this thing all day…"

Rolling his eyes, he dropped his jeans and boxers to the floor. "I feel really stupid standing here like this," he said, looking up at the ceiling.

"Really? Because parts of you are really glad to see me," she giggled, snapping a picture.

'Well, he's got a mind of his own," he returned, finally directing his eyes back to his wife to find her with a smug smile.

"Yeah, he does," she agreed, reaching out and caressing him. "But sometimes, he comes up with a good thought or two." She smiled at him, then sank to her knees in front of him, taking him into her mouth.

She worked him quickly and it didn't take long before he felt control slipping away. Deciding that he wanted more than just a quick release, he pulled back and slipped out of her mouth.

"I wasn't done," she said, as he helped her to stand.

"I almost was," he told her, tugging the hem of the wet shirt up and over her head, "And I thought we could finish it together."

"Ah, I do like it when you think with the bigger head," she grinned, as he hooked his fingers into the waist band of her yoga pants and slipped them and her panties down over her hips.

He looked around the office for a moment, debating whether to lay her down on the floor or attempt to move to the bedroom.

She picked up on his quandary and said, "Sit down."

He looked at her for a moment and she elaborated, "On the chair…"

Wishing he would have thought about it, he sat on the soft fake leather chair and said a silent round of thanks IKEA was out of the chairs with the armrests on the day he went to pick up her office furniture. All thoughts of IKEA vanished from his mind when she straddled his lap and lowered herself onto him.

As she slowly ground against him, she leaned forward, her lips brushing his ear and said, "Just remember this when you're fantasizing over that picture."

Feeling himself pushed dangerously close to the edge he spoke, his words coming out as a gruff warning, "Keep talking like that and this will be over before it begins."

She stopped moving and looked down at him, "Oh no you don't…you need to wait for me."

He slipped his hand behind her head and pulled her lips to his, taking them in a savage kiss, "Then get moving," he commanded, "Because waiting is no longer an option."

He assumed that something about his words flipped some sort of switch within her mind because once he'd uttered them; she returned the kiss, taking charge of the situation, telling him what she needed, giving him direction on getting her to his level of arousal. She was in charge of the show and he found it very erotic, very enticing.

"Lisa…" he said, giving her a warning that he was nearly at the point of no return.

She smiled at him, her eyes carrying that dreamy quality they took on during sex, "I'm almost there," she purred. "Think you can hold on just a wee bit more…"

"Not with you talking like that," he said, his hands settling on her waist, slowing her movement. "There…that's it…slow it down…"

She rocked against him, using slow, deep movements. "How's that?" she asked, her tone breathless.

"Good, Baby, real good," he said, watching as she smiled at his term of endearment. They rarely used them outside of the bedroom and usually, when they did, it was totally tongue in cheek. But when they slipped out during love making, they worked surprisingly well. "How is it for you?"

"It feels good," she breathed, as her nails raking his shoulders confirmed her statement.

He slipped his hand between them, using his fingers to help her along.

"Oh, God, yes," she sighed, her movements becoming more focused, more driven, telling him that she was nearly there.

He waited, knowing that she would let him know when she was ready and knowing by the way she bit her lip that it wasn't too far away.

"Now, Aaron," she said, using his given name, another act that had surprising results and this time was no different.

All thoughts of control vanished as they furiously finished. She cried out when her body spasmed at the end, pulling from him a guttural groan as he reached his own climax. As his body came down from its prior high, he felt her collapse against him; her head nestled in the crook of his neck.

"Damn," she laughed, her lips tickling his neck as she laughed.

"That's it," he said, running his hands along her back. "I do believe a man can die from too much sex."

She pulled back and kissed him, "Only if it's good sex…" she kissed him again, "Really, really good sex. Kinda like that."

He looked down at the boxes on the floor, "We really need to finish those boxes."

"No, we really need to sit here for a few minutes," she decided, then smiled. "And your child needs to calm down."

"I guess we stirred him up, huh?" he laughed, as they both looked down at her stomach.

"You've got to be able to feel this," she said, taking his hand and placing it on the soft mound of her stomach. "There…"

He waited for a moment and then, was rewarded with the slightest flutter of movement beneath his palm. He looked up at her for confirmation.

"You felt it?"

"I felt it," he laughed, pulling her into an embrace.

"It's about damn time!" she laughed, as her Blackberry rang. "Damn it…"

"Don't answer it," he suggested, but her look told him that wasn't an option.

Climbing off of him, she answered the phone, "This is Lisa O'Reilly," she listened for a moment, then, "Sure Ron, what do you need?" she asked, shooing him out of the chair as she pulled on her pants, then sat down, "Let me just boot up my laptop…"

Knowing she'd be a while, he bent and picked up his jeans. Slipping them on, he noticed the wet t-shirt picture laying on the floor. With a quick glance Lisa's way to see if she'd noticed, he lifted the picture, stole a quick glance, then tucked it safely into his back pocket.

With a satisfied smile, he pecked her cheek and walked out of the office.


	8. Why Is This Trip A Problem?

_**For any woman to success in American life she must first do two things: Prepare herself for a profession, and marry a man who wants her to succeed as much as she does.**_

_**Cathleen Douglas **_

Lisa O'Reilly Hotchner bustled around her bedroom, packing her travel bag and trying to ignore the fact that her husband was watching her every move. As she folded a sweater, she looked up at him.

"Hotch, you frowning at me is not going to change anything," she tiredly said.

"I can see that," he returned, "But I still don't think that this is a good idea."

Zipping the bag shut, she looked at him. "You know this is a part of my job, just like it's a part of yours. I spoke to Dr. Ben and he said that there is nothing at this point in my pregnancy that is prohibiting me from working or flying."

Picking up the bag, she set it on the floor and sat on the bed next to him. "I don't get it. You haven't had a problem with the hours that I've been keeping so far or the workload I've been carrying. Why is this trip a problem?"

She watched as he thought through his answer prior to speaking, "Because I've been here with you all along. I could keep my eye on you."

She raised a brow, willing herself to stay calm, "Keep an eye on me? I am more than capable of keeping an eye on myself, thank you."

"Lisa…" he began, but she cut him off.

"Look, I appreciate your concern, but since when have you become an over protective husband and father? Trust me, Hotch, everything will be fine. I should be able to get that satellite office set up in a few days, and then Little Hotch and I will board the first flight back here."

"I'm allowed to worry about you, you know," he said, slipping his arm around her.

"I know," she softly said, "Trust me, I won't do anything that would put the baby in jeopardy, I promise. Besides," she smiled, "You're the one who always straps on that sexy bulletproof vest and charges in with his gun drawn, not me."

"You're not going to let me win this one, are you?" he smiled.

She shook her head, "No. But I promise you, I'll go to bed early every night and eat healthy and do everything Dr. Ben said I should, okay?"

"And you'll call me through out the day?"

"Aaron," she said, "I'm going up there to work. I will call you in the morning and when I go back to the hotel, fair?"

"And at lunch," he countered.

"And at lunch, okay?"

He smiled, "Okay."

XXXXX

Aaron Hotchner sat at his desk, working through the huge stack of paperwork that never seemed to go away no matter how hard he worked at it. He did his best to avoid looking at his watch, but found his eyes drawn back to it, and then drawn to his silent desk phone.

Tiredly, he massaged his temples. When he spoke to her that morning, Lisa told him she'd be taking lunch at noon and would call him then. It was now nearly two. He assumed she got caught up in another of those infernal committee meetings that she'd been forced to attend.

As he tried to come up with a rational reason why she didn't call, he noticed JJ walking past his office, presumably on her way to Rossi's office next door. She didn't look happy, he decided, wondering what his old friend had done to draw the wrath of the petite blonde.

When the phone rang, he nearly jumped, snatching the receiver up before the next ring. "Hotchner," he barked, disappointed to find the voice on the other end of the phone didn't belong to Lisa, but rather the Attorney General of Alabama.

He was still on the phone fifteen minutes later, when JJ and Rossi walked into his office. Neither of them looked happy. Wrapping up his call, he said goodbye and hung up, then looked up at them.

"JJ, Dave," he nodded, "I figured you'd have left for lunch already. I hear that new Thai restaurant on Sinai Street is fairly good."

He watched as they held a silent conversation with their eyes. Rossi opened his mouth to speak, but JJ held up a hand.

"No, Dave, I'll do it," she said, then turned her attention to him. "Look, this might be nothing, but I just got a heads up that there's been a shooting in the Federal Building in Albany. A female agent is supposedly wounded."

Rossi spoke, "JJ came to me with this info first, Hotch. She wasn't sure whether or not to tell you, since Lisa's up there. But I figured you'd rather hear it from us."

Hotch nodded, keeping his expression neutral. "JJ, would you mind finding out what you can, as quickly as possible?" He was surprised by the calm in his own voice. "Call in whatever favors you have to."

"If I need to, Hotch," Rossi sincerely said, "I'll call the Director and get a direct line into Albany."

JJ shook her head, "I can probably get that info much faster. My little underground network of media agents operates much faster than the official channels." She gave Hotch a reassuring smile. "I'll let you know as soon as I hear anything."

He tried to return the smile, but knew it came out more like a grimace, "Thank you, JJ," he said, as she made her way out of the office.

Once she was gone, he felt Rossi's eyes upon him. "You do know Lisa will call you as soon as she can, don't you?"

He nodded, then, before he could stop himself he said, "But she hasn't, Dave. She was supposed to call at noon and she hasn't." He stopped, looking at his friend for an answer that he knew damn well the man couldn't give. "I had to talk her into calling me at lunch. But, she's been really good about it, until today."

Rossi nodded, sitting down on one of the chairs across from his desk. "Call her, Man."

Hotch nodded, picking up the desk phone and dialing Lisa's cell, listening as it went to voice mail. At the tone, he spoke, "Hey, it's me. I heard about the shooting and I just wanted to check in and make sure you're okay. Call me when you can."

Flipping his phone shut, he looked up at his old friend.

"Well," Rossi said, thoughtfully, "I guess we'll just wait until Jen does her job and gets us the information we need. And we're not going to worry until we have a valid reason to do so."

Frowning, he replied, "It's not that easy, Dave."

Leaning forward, Rossi spoke calmly and quietly, "It's the best we've got right now, Hotch." He sat back up and continued speaking, "Now, tell me what's on your desk that we need to take care of, because I have a feeling that no matter what the outcome, you might just be heading to Albany sometime soon."

XXXXX

With a tired sigh, Lisa O'Reilly Hotchner sank into the high backed desk chair in her temporary office and propped her feet up on the desk Opening the water bottle that had been sitting there since earlier today, she took a long drink, then closed her eyes. She could feel the events of the past few hours finally settling on her shoulders, but wouldn't let herself be drawn down. Instead, she picked up her Blackberry and saw that she had ten missed calls and five emails. Five of the calls were from Hotch.

Staring at the phone, she talked herself into calling him. She knew he had to be worried, probably freaked out. She also knew that he would read her the riot act. This would not be a pretty phone call.

She hit the speed dial and placed the phone to her ear. It didn't surprise her at all when he answered on the first ring.

"Hotchner," he snapped, and she could picture him pacing his office, brows arched in a typical Hotch-is-worried-yet-really-pissed-off expression.

"Hotch, it's me. I'm fine, everything's fine…" she quickly said.

She listened as he turned to who ever was in his office and announce that it was her and that she was fine.

"Who's with you?" she asked.

"JJ and Dave," he explained. "JJ just walked in to tell us that the agent that was shot was field agent from Albany."

"Her name is Analise Crawford," Lisa tiredly explained, "She's been with the Bureau for six months."

"Lisa," he calmly said, "Just tell me this. How close were you?"

She hesitated, not wanting to tell him the truth, but unable to lie. Quietly, she spoke, "I was in the lobby of the Federal Building when we heard the shots. We were just about to board the elevators."

"The elevators that were right next to the bank?" he asked, something in his voice telling her he wasn't as calm as he wanted her to believe.

"Hotch, I'm fine," she hurriedly explained, "We set up a Command Post in the lobby but they had the shooter in less than ten minutes. And Agent Crawford was only winged. She's probably not even going to have to spend the night in the hospital."

There was a pause before he responded, in a slow, deliberate voice. "Right now, Lisa, I'm just glad you're okay."

She could tell he was holding back. She looked around the crowded office, knowing she couldn't start the discussion there. "Aaron," she quietly said, knowing that using his given name would soften him, "I promise you, I'm okay. And I will call you tonight…I promise."

"Fine," he returned, firmly, "I expect we'll have a few things to talk about when you call."

Lisa sighed, "I don't doubt it. I love you."

"I do too," he replied, as they broke the connection.

XXXXX

After hanging up the receiver, Hotch ran his hand over his face, holding back the emotions that were hovering dangerously close to the surface. He then turned to JJ and Rossi and spoke.

"She's fine. She said they had the shooter in less than 10 minutes."

JJ nodded, "The Bureau Chief in the Albany office just released a statement advising that everything has been resolved successfully with minimal injuries."

"That's generic enough," Rossi muttered.

Ignoring him, JJ continued, "I spoke with the communications coordinator for the Albany office. He said the building is still on lock down, but everything is slowly returning to normal."

"Normal is a subjective term," Hotch dryly said, watching as Rossi looked over at JJ, who nodded.

"JJ and I talked earlier," Rossi began, "We know you were planning to pick up Jack tonight and have him for the weekend…"

"Shit," Hotch spat, "And Hayley's in Bermuda."

Rossi spoke again, "Why don't you let him spend the night with us? You know he'll love running around with Mudgie. That way, you can head up to Albany…"

"I can't ask you to do that," he replied, torn between wanting to accept the offer and feeling responsible for his son. "I'm sure you and JJ had plans."

JJ smiled, "Our plans included me forcing this man to finally agree on wedding details. Trust me, Hotch, he's looking for a way out of that," she laughed. "Besides, you know we have just as much fun with Jack as he does with us."

He knew they wouldn't take "no" for an answer, just as much as he knew he needed to go to Albany. "I owe you both for this," he seriously said.

JJ grinned at him, "No, Hotch, I honestly think it's Dave that owes you. But he's not totally off the hook yet."

Rossi groaned and rolled his eyes, then, "If you and Lisa feel that you need to take a couple of days to handle this, feel free to leave the munchkin with us." He turned and smiled at her, "I'm sure you'll agree, right, Honey?"

"Come on, let's let Hotch make some plans," JJ said, walking to the office door.

Hotch watched as they walked out of his office, then picked up the phone. Within minutes, he had a seat on 4:55 flight from Dulles to Albany. With any luck, he'd be there before Lisa got back to her hotel room.

**Author's Note: Thank you again to Tonnie for her amazing outline!!! And to Susan, Tracia, and Annika for their friendship and support!**


	9. Monsters In the Closet

**Author's Note: This chapter has a special guest author - none other than Tonnie!! She created the lovely conclusion to this chapter. Thank you, Tonnie!!!!**

_**You can learn many things from children. How much patience you have, for instance.**_

_**Franklin P. Jones **_

Lisa walked slowly down the hotel hallway, wondering if it was still possible to get room service at 10pm. She tried to remember when she last ate, deciding, as she reached the door to her room, that it had to be the bagel she ate around 10 am. Her stomach growled loudly in punctuation of that discovery.

She slid her keycard into the door and pushed it open with her foot. As the door shut behind her, she dropped her purse and brief case, shrugged out of her winter coat and debated whether she should call for food first or take a nice long hot shower. As she bent to pick up her bag, she saw movement in the room and, jerking up right, her hand on the butt of her service weapon, found Hotch sitting in the arm chair near the bed, holding a folder, which apparently he was reading prior to her arrival.

Dropping her bag back to the floor, she narrowed her eyes and said, "Do I want to know why the hell you're here? And further more, exactly how you got in here?"

Closing the folder, he stood up, "I would think it would be fairly obvious as to why I'm here, Lisa. As for the how? It's not hard to get into a hotel room when I slap my credentials on the desk and tell them that I am your husband. Of course, this all makes me doubt the security of this hotel…"

Sighing, Lisa slipped out of her heels, "Hotch, I know you want nothing more than to read me the riot act, but right now, I just really need to get something to eat and take a nice long hot shower. Can we please deal with everything else later?"

XXXXX

Hotch studied her, as she stood, her hand braced against her lower back. She was pale and looked exhausted. Anger was replaced by concern as he walked to her. "Are you okay? When was the last time you had anything to eat?"

She frowned. "I'm fine. And just like most days, I'm tired. The baby is fine, but really ready for some food. So, if you want to make us both very happy, you can grab the room service menu and order me some kind of sandwich and a glass of milk while I take a shower."

She didn't wait for an answer, but simply walked across the room. Shedding clothing as she walked, she entered the bathroom and shut the door behind her. Picking up the room service menu, he sat on the bed and tried to figure out what she would want to eat.

XXXXX

An hour later, Lisa sat in the center of the hotel's king sized bed, wrapped in a huge white terry cloth robe and finishing the brownie that he'd so thoughtfully tacked on to her dinner order. She looked at the tray of dishes that he'd set on the small table, nearly laughing at the amount of food he'd ordered. A cup of chicken rice soup, a roast beef sandwich, a fruit cup, a glass of milk, and a brownie, and she'd eaten every bite of it.

Swallowing the last bite of brownie, she looked at her husband, "Did you think I hadn't eaten all day?"

He shrugged, "I don't know, Lisa. I don't know a lot about what happened to you today."

Leaning back against the headboard, she closed her eyes, summoning her energy for this discussion. Opening her eyes, she looked at him. "You knew there would come a time when we had to face this. Our jobs aren't exactly the Webster's definition of safe and secure."

XXXXX

She was trying to diminish what could have happened today and he was in no mood to let her. "I realize that," he began, willing himself to stay calm and rationally. "But I'm not going to lie to you. I don't like it any more." Seeing the look of mutiny that crossed her features, he held up a hand. "Give me a minute before you start your rebuttal, please?"

She nodded and he continued.

"I am not doubting your abilities or your professionalism. I'm not saying that you don't know how to do your job, not by any means. What I am saying is that I deserve the right to be concerned. I always have been, but now it's different. We're married and you are carrying our child. A child that goes with you where ever you go." He stopped and took a calming breath. "I worry, Lisa. There, I said it, I worry about you. And today…was a day to worry."

XXXXX

Lisa listened to his words and realized that the argument she'd prepared in her mind wouldn't work anymore. He was truly concerned, more so that she'd ever seen him. She reached out and took his hand, "Come 'ere…"

Once he was sitting on the bed next to her, his arms wrapped around her, she spoke quietly, "I remember how I felt after the bombing in Manhattan. When I didn't know if you were alive or dead, but I just had to keep going." She looked at him, "I remember the way the fear completely overwhelmed me."

His voice was soft when he spoke, "Then you know how I felt today. But double it, because there are two of you."

"But you've got to know that I'm not going to rush into the fray, looking for danger just because its there anymore. My days of doing that are long gone, Hotch."

"You don't have to look for it," he seriously said, "It has a way of finding us when we're not looking for it." He smiled at her, pulling a stay lock of hair back from her face. "And I know you're not going to sit back and watch the world go by."

"That's not me," she said, returning the smile. "Relax, we're okay."

He took a deep breath and released it, "I don't know what I'd do with out you…" he said, kissing her deeply.

"Stop thinking about it," she said, her lips brushing his, "I'm here, we're here…" She kissed him, her fingers working to unbutton his shirt. "Just stop thinking…"

She knew better than to think either one of them could stop thinking, but at least, she thought, they could suspend it for a bit. And suspend it they did, as he lay her back onto the crisp white sheets, making love to her tenderly, slowly. There was a reverence in his touch that reached her soul, showing her the true depth of his emotion.

When they were done, they lay together, holding each other close. Lisa felt her eyes closing, then, a random thought went through her head. Eyes flying open wide, she said, "Wait, you were supposed to pick up Jack tonight. Where is he?"

Hotch smiled, "Right now, I'd say JJ and Dave are deciding that volunteering to keep Jack probably wasn't the walk in the park that Dave thought it might be."

Lisa looked at him, "You did not, let them take him!"

"He volunteered!" he laughed "He even said he was looking forward to it. JJ was right on board with it, too."

She snuggled into his arms, resting her head on his shoulder. "So, did you tell Dave about making sure he has Mr. Biggles the bear? And that a juice box before bed means he has to pee before he lays down? And…"

He cut her off with a kiss, then grinned evilly, "Well, I might have forgotten to mention about the peeing part. You think that'll be a problem? I mean, I was in a hurry to get here, you know."

She smacked his chest. "Aaron Hotchner, your son is going to drive them up a wall."

XXXXX

He kissed her again, "No, he won't. Not for long, at least. I left out the part where I called JJ and filled her in on all of Jack's bed time tricks."

Lisa smiled at him, "You're a good father," she yawned, "A really good father and both of your children are lucky to have you." She closed her eyes and rested her head on his shoulder. "So am I…"

He looked down at her as she surrendered to her exhaustion. Kissing her forehead, he softly said, "I'm the lucky one…"

XXXXX

JJ slipped back into the master bedroom at Little Creek, smiling widely as she padded toward the king-sized bed and the man waiting there. Sliding under the covers, she answered the unspoken question in his eyes as she said, "This time, apparently Mr. Biggles the Bear wanted to know if he could watch another movie. I explained to both Jack and Mr. Biggles that it's time for both little boys and little bears to close their eyes, and that there will be time for more movies tomorrow."

"And he bought it?"

Nodding, she answered, "For now."

David Rossi wrapped an arm around his fiancee, snuggling them both under the covers as he said tiredly, "Well, at least that's better than the three trips we've made to the bathroom so far."

Dropping her head against her pillow, JJ replied, "Well, David Rossi, that might have something to do with the fact that one of us let him have three juice boxes earlier."

Rolling his eyes, Rossi muttered, "Jen, honey, he said he was thirsty. I'm not going to deny a child something to drink."

Propping up on her elbow, JJ looked down into his face. "I thought you knew children, Dave. Don't you have like eight or nine nieces and nephews?"

"Doesn't mean I know the ins and outs of childcare, honey." Shrugging his shoulders negligently, he added, "I'm just the favorite uncle who sends the best Christmas and birthday gifts."

"Well, favorite uncle, this is one time that long-distance just won't do the job. We've got a real, live, breathing child in the other room, and he's our responsibility for the night. There's no way to call in our performance, honey."

Sighing, he replied, "I'm beginning to realize that, Jen. All I want to know is how children that size have enough energy to keep going day and night."

"He's a kid,, honey. Their energy is uncontainable." Tapping his chest, JJ dropped a kiss against his lips as she said with a glint in her eye, "But I think you might have deserved a reward for your patience tonight. But of course, if you're too tired, then…"

Rossi grinned as he felt her snuggle closer to him, and his hand started traveling well known paths as he growled, "Oh, I'm never too tired for you, Jen. And I'm going to show you exactly how much energy I still have in me."

They both looked up at the sound of a tiny knock against the plank bedroom door. Scooting toward the side of the bed as Rossi sighed, JJ called quickly, "What do you need, Jack?"

The door opened with a squeak as little Jack Hotchner stood in the middle of the doorframe, his little pajama-clad body clutching tightly at a ragged brown teddy bear. Rossi pushed up on his elbow as he said, wearily, "What's wrong, son?"

Jack clutched his teddy bear even tighter as he padded across the floor to the side of the bed and said in his little boy voice, "Unca Dave, can I sleep with you and Aun' JJ?"

Rossi turned quickly to look at JJ, who was biting back a smile, and he muttered, "Jen, I swear to God, if this was some devious plan of Aaron Hotchner's, I will make him pay for this."

Ignoring her frustrated fiance, JJ held out her hand to the little boy, who quickly sidled next to her. Cupping his face, she asked solemnly, "Now, Jack, why can't you sleep in the bed across the hall? You were perfectly fine there just a few minutes ago."

Staring up into her face, his brown eyes wide, Jack said excitedly, "There's monsters in the closet, Aun' JJ! I saw them!"

JJ tried to keep a straight face as she answered calmly, "Well, Uncle Dave and I have been in and out of your room all night, and there were no monsters then."

Tilting his head, Jack thought for a second, then said quickly, "They hide when grownups come. But they start talkin' to me when you ain't there." When he saw the hesitation in JJ's eyes, the boy added, helpfully, "And Daddy and Aun' Lisa always let me sleep with them when the monsters come out."

Tossing himself back against his pillow, Rossi muttered to the ceiling, "Monsters. Now I have suppposed monsters in my house. I swear to God, I will find a way for Aaron Hotchner to regret every single moment of this."

Reaching behind her, JJ easily smacked Rossi's arm, hard, while she kept her focus on Hotch's son. Pulling him closer, she said with a smile, "I think that monsters are a definite cause for a change in beds."

Three stories and twenty-five minutes later, with Jack Hotchner firmly settled between them, David Rossi looked over his tiny sleeping body at the smiling face of Jennifer Jareau and asked, "You sure you still want kids, babe? Cause I gotta tell ya, if this keeps up, there's not much chance of that happening anytime soon."

"He'll be gone tomorrow, Dave. I don't think you're going to be deprived forever." JJ smoothed down a stray hair against the child's warm skin and whispered, "And if we get one just like him, it will be worth everything, don't you think?"

Unable to resist the contagious smile on her face, Rossi reached across to stroke her face as he muttered, "Just what the world needs. Another kid like Jack Hotchner."

XXXXX

Not even trying to hide her smile, JJ watched in amusement as Jack Hotchner bounced on his small toes, his enthusiasm palpable as he peered out the screen door. His little boy voice was more excited than normal as he yelled, "They're here, Aun' JJ, they're here!"

JJ walked up behind him and pushed open the door to let the little tornado outside. "Go on, honey, and let them know that dinner's on the table.."

Rossi's voice invaded her ears as he said softly, "So I see the parents have returned for their offspring."

Turning, JJ pecked his cheek as she nodded, then moved toward the kitchen, calling over her shoulder, "Be nice, Dave. And no tall tales of how bad the night was, do you hear me?"

Dave merely smiled, refusing to agree to any demands, then turned back to face the reunion occurring in his front yard. And as much as he wanted to terrorize his former protégé, he couldn't help but feel a pull at his heartstrings as he watched Aaron Hotchner hold his son in one arm and wrap the other around his pregnant wife. He had never seen Hotch look so complete.

XXXXX

An few hours later, after a very satisfying dinner in JJ & Rossi's kitchen, Hotch looked across the table at his son and said, "Jack, did you thank Aunt JJ and Uncle Dave for letting you stay last night?"

The little boy nodded as he licked his fingers, cookie crumbles still evident, and said, "I did, Daddy, I did."

"Oh, it's us who should be thanking you, Jack," JJ said, glancing sideways at Rossi, mentally daring him to say a word, "You've been a lot of fun for your Uncle Dave."

Lisa laughed lightly as she noticed the interplay between Dave and JJ. "Oh, that sounds like there's more to this story than we've been told.."

Aaron glanced at the adults then at the innocent expression on his son's face. Slowly, he said, "O..kay…Someone want to tell me what I'm missing?"

JJ glared at Rossi, who merely raised his eyebrows and said quickly, "I didn't say a word, babe, not a word! Ask anybody!"

Knowing Dave as well as she did, Lisa had to laugh at his tone, which only made Hotch even more confused. Leaning back in his chair, Hotch wrapped an arm around Lisa's shoulders as he asked again, "Sure there's nothing you need to tell me?"

Rossi shrugged his shoulders as he grinned at his fiancee, then turned to his Unit Chief and said calmly, "Well, apparently your son has discovered that I have a herd of monsters living in my guest room closet. Don't think I won't be sending you the bill from Ghostbusters to have that infestation removed."

Hotch groaned as he stared down at his son once again, and asked seriously, "Jack, did you and the monsters have another late-night discussion?"

His focus temporarily removed from the sugar cookie in his hand, Jack looked at his father with wide eyes as he nodded eagerly, his voice excited as he spoke around the cookie, "Daddy, they was everywhere in Unca Dave's rooms. Ev'rywhere!"

JJ leaned forward and patted Jack's shoulder as she said with a smile, "And Jack was perfectly safe in the middle of our bed, weren't you honey?"

Hotch met Dave's eyes as he groaned again. Turning once again to face his son, he said seriously, "Now, Jack, you know we've talked about this. You're a big enough boy to sleep in your own bed. And the monsters aren't able to hurt you at all."

Plopping down from his chair, Jack scooted to stand by Lisa as he said plainly, "But Daddy, these monsters didn't know you had a gun! I tried to tell them and they didn't listen!'

Lisa wrapped her arms around the little boy, pulling him up against her as she said soothingly, "It's okay, Jack." Turning to glare at her husband, Lisa said in a whisper, "Just for that, Hotch, I'm going to let him sleep with us tonight, too!"

And this time, when David Rossi laughed and JJ grinned, Hotch merely shook his head and wondered what he had ever done to deserve such a wonderful family.


	10. 1 in 3000

"_**Motherhood is the strangest **__**thing; it can be like being one's own Trojan horse."**_

_**Rebecca West**_

Lisa O'Reilly Hotchner sat at her desk, willing away the dull throbbing headache she'd had all day, no scratch that, all week. It had been a warm early March week and she contributed the headache to the many spring flowers that had been blooming in the warm weather.

It had to be her allergies, she determined, because she'd also been experiencing mild nausea, something she hadn't felt since the very beginning of her pregnancy. Still, she felt like shit, royal shit and she just wanted, more than anything to feel better.

As if in response to her concern, she felt the baby move. He'd been doing a lot of that lately, usually at night, when she lay down. Seems "Little Hotch" as he'd been christened around Quantico, was nocturnal. She would have to break that habit once he made his debut.

She laughed, thinking of how she started referring to the baby as a "he" as soon as movement started. She'd determined that the baby had a personality and that the personality was clearly male. None of her ultrasounds had revealed anything to allude to either gender.

Not that they'd really asked. They were more concerned with the results of tests that ruled out birth defects, something that due to Lisa's age, were a possibility. Those tests came back blissfully negative. Once they had all of the results, they both relaxed and started to enjoy the preparations for the baby.

"Hello, Gingersnap," Garcia smiled from the doorway.

"Hey, Pen," she smiled.

"And how's Little Hotch doing?"

"He's active," she laughed, rubbing her stomach.

"And that could be from the Diet Pepsi you had this morning?" Garcia knowingly said.

"I didn't have a Diet Pepsi," she smartly returned.

"Oh really?" she asked, walking around and looking into her trashcan. "Then why is there a can in there?"

"That was from the cleaning crew," she dismissed.

"Don't lie to me," she said, sternly. "You know you shouldn't be drinking caffeine."

"Yes, Pen, I know," she nodded. She held up her mug, "This is green tea…want to check it? With sugar, not Splenda, and lemon."

"I know it's hard," Garcia smiled, "But isn't it worth it?"

"Of course it is," she sighed, "But damnit, as soon as I give birth you had better be standing next to me with a beer and a Diet Pepsi."

"I promise, I'll drag the cooler in to the delivery room and we'll have a party, okay?"

"So," Lisa said, rubbing at the right side of her stomach. "Did you have a reason for coming here other than being a narc for my caffeine addiction?"

"Actually, I did," she laughed, holding up a folder, "The research material you asked for."

"I asked Kevin for it," Lisa said, brow raised.

"I know, I just intercepted it so that I'd have an excuse to come up here," she winked. "Okay, my job here is done. I'm going now!"

Lisa laughed at her friend, "Thanks, Pen."

"I did it for Little Hotch," she winked, walking to the door. "Call if you need anything."

"Will do," she said, watching as Garcia walked away. Tiredly, she stretched her legs, frowning at her swollen feet. That had been new, showing up in the past two days. She made a mental note to discuss that with Dr. Ben this afternoon.

Picking up the folder that Garcia brought, she tried to focus on the printed pages, but her eyes blurred.

"Shit," she muttered, flipping shut the folder and rubbing her eyes. She really didn't like this part of pregnancy. She was getting bigger, feeling more uncomfortable. Her legs and feet were swelling, she'd had a headache for three days straight, and now her eyes were blurring, no doubt due to the head ache. And, to top it off, the baby was sticking either its hand or foot up under the right side of her rib cage.

Sighing, she looked at the clock on her computer, deciding it was time to leave to go see Dr. Ben. Picking up her desk phone, she called her husband.

He answered after one ring, "Hotchner," he said, and the one word told her just how badly his day was going.

"Hey," she said, "I'm getting ready to go see Dr. Ben, think you can slip away?"

"Would you be mad at me if I didn't?" he asked, disappointment tingeing his words.

"No," she softly said, "I know you're swamped. Will you make it home for dinner tonight?"

"I may," he said, then sighed. "I doubt it. Call me after the doctors?"

"I will," she agreed, then, softly, "Love you."

"Me too," he returned. "You'd better go; you're going to be late."

"I'm out; I'll call you after my visit."

XXXXX

Had she known how her visit with Dr. Ben would end up, Lisa would have insisted that Hotch join her. Sure, she'd felt really crappy lately, sure her feet and calves had swollen, sure she felt like general dog shit, but wasn't that what pregnancy was supposed to feel like?

Apparently, it wasn't. She knew there was something wrong when Cassi the perky young nurse took her blood pressure three times, and then told her to lay down, before bustling out of the room to find Dr. Ben.

Dr. Ben's concerned expression did nothing to make her feel better and after he announced that her blood pressure was 160/110 and that he needed to run blood and urine tests ASAP, she dismissed all thoughts of a normal visit.

The urine results came back quickly, which she was grateful for, as she was starting to build up to a low grade panic. She wasn't glad to hear Dr. Ben's concerned voice advise her that there was protein in her urine and that this, coupled with the rest of her symptoms told him that she was probably suffering from pre eclampsia.

Lisa had read briefly about it in one of the myriad of pregnancy books she'd purchased since her diagnosis, but since they said it only affected 1 in every 3000 pregnancies and that there was no known prevention, she chalked it up to an anomaly and kept reading. If Dr Ben was right, it was her anomaly now and she was that 1 in 3000.

She forced herself to listen as Dr. Ben went on about how he wanted to admit her to the hospital for observation and further testing, and how those strange muscle pulls that she'd felt off and on today were actually mild contractions and that they needed to stop.

In a blur, she was escorted by wheel chair by Cassi the perky young nurse, through the metal and glass walkway that joined the medical building to the hospital and then into the elevators up to the 4th floor maternity department.

As they wheeled her through the double doors into the maternity department, she realized that Hotch had no idea what was going on. Pulling out her Blackberry, she dialed his desk phone.

He answered on the second ring, "Hotchner."

"Hotch," she began, feeling herself filling up with tears, deciding, for the first time since Dr. Ben started with this whirlwind, that she was scared.

"What's wrong?" he asked, instantly picking up on her tone.

"I'm at Georgetown, they're admitting me."

"Admitting you? Lisa, what's going on?"

"My blood pressure was really high," she said, feeling the tears start to fall. "Dr Ben seems to think I've got pre-eclampsia."

"I thought that was something rare?"

"Yeah, you're talking to one in 3000," she sniffed, then quietly, "I'm scared, Hotch."

"I'll be there as soon as I can," he said, his tone strained, telling her that he mirrored her emotion.

"Be careful," she careful, she quickly said.

"Stop worrying about me," he gently said, "Just concentrate on you and the baby, okay? I love you, Lisa. Everything's going to be okay."

"Just hurry, Hotch, okay?"

XXXXX

Aaron Hotchner walked into the Maternity Ward and straight to the nurse's station. He'd made the 45 minute ride from Quantico in 37 minutes, pulling right up to the hospital's valet parking. He wasn't about to waste an hour finding a parking spot, so he tossed the valet his keys and snagged the key tag, tucking it in his pocket as he rushed into the hospital.

He walked up to the desk, catching the attention of the unit clerk, an older woman with graying brown hair.

"Can I help you?" she asked, with a friendly smile.

"My wife was brought in about an hour ago," he began, "Her name is Lisa Hotchner?"

The woman checked the computer and nodded, "Dr. Bergen's patient. She's in Room 424. That's down the hall, last door on your left."

"Thank you," he returned, with a perfunctory smile, and then took the hall in long strides, stopping in front of the partially shut door to room 424. He took a moment to force himself to relax, then, walked in.

He was not prepared for what he found. He'd expected to find her sitting up in bed, clad in a hospital gown, possibly with an iv. Instead, she lay, hooked up to at least two different machines, with an iv running into her arm and a catheter. She opened her eyes as he enterred and he could read the fear from across the room.

"Hey there," he said, trying to smile.

"Hey," she said, closing her eyes tight, obviously trying to hold back the tears that started to fall.

Moved quickly to the side of the bed, he took her hand in both of his. Bending over, he pressed his lips to her forehead, kissing it softly "How do you feel?"

"I felt like shit, now I'm just freaking out," she admitted. "I'm trussed up like a freaking Thanksgiving turkey…"

He took in the machinery, recognizing the tocometer belt that wrapped around her stomach. There was a blood pressure cuff around her right arm that was attached to another device, and the iv had an electronic pump. As they sat in silence, he realized that the whooshing sound coming faintly from one of the machines was the baby's heartbeat.

He smiled, "The heartbeat sounds good and strong."

"He's fine," she nodded, "They said he's doing great. I'm the one who's falling apart." She closed her eyes a moment, "Thank God, it's me, not him."

Hotch closed his eyes for a moment, wondering what in the hell he should say in response to her comment. Finally, he said, "I wish it wasn't either of you."

"Me too," she agreed, as the door opened and in walked Dr. Ben Bergen.

"Aaron," Dr. Ben began, in the friendly tone Hotch had known for years. "What'd you do, fly here?"

"Just about," he admitted, sitting in the chair next to Lisa's bed. "What's going on?"

"We believe that Lisa's suffering from pre eclampsia," Dr. Ben explained. "Unfortunately, we do not know what causes the body to react this way and there really was no way to predict it. It's rare, only one in 3000 pregnancies."

"Lucky, lucky me," Lisa mumbled.

"What we're doing now is stabilizing Lisa's blood pressure. When she was admitted it was 161/110. She's on an automatic blood pressure monitor and we've set her up with magnesium sulfate, which is why she's feeling flushed right now."

"And the baby?" he asked.

"The baby is fine," Dr. Ben said, "We're going to bring in a portable ultrasound in a bit just to get a look, but everything else seems fine. Now, we need to get some back ground info in order to make sure we're going with the right diagnosis. I'm going to send in one of the nurses to ask a few questions, okay?"

Lisa nodded, numbly.

Dr Ben smiled at her, "Lisa, I think everything will be fine. The contractions seem to have slowed down and once the magnesium starts to work, they should go away. If not, we'll put you on something to stop them."

"What happens if they don't stop?" Lisa asked, her voice betraying her emotion.

"The ultra sound will confirm everything, but right now, the baby's probably about 14 inches long and weighs around two pounds. If he or she would be born at this point, there's an 85% chance of survival with proper medical intervention." He gave them both a reassuring smile, "But, we're going to do everything possible to keep that from happening. Lisa, your biggest job is to just relax, stay calm, and think positively, can you do that?

She nodded.

"Good," he winked, "Aaron, I'm leaving her in your hands. Take care of her."

"I will, Ben, thank you," he returned with a nod, then watched as the doctor left the room.

"Questions? Background info?" she sighed.

"It can't be any worse that what we filled out to join the Bureau, right?" he tried, having no idea just how bad it could get.


	11. Revelations and Surprises

_**Crises refine life. In them you discover what you are.**__**Allan K. Chalmers **_

A few moments later, Anna, the nurse who'd helped Gina get settled when she arrived walked in with a clipboard.

"Lisa," she began, "How are you feeling?"

Lisa shrugged, "Tired, freaked out…"

"I can understand," Anna nodded, "I promise you, though, we're going to do our best to get you through this and help that little one finish incubating before they make their debut. Do you know the sex?"

Lisa shook her head, "Not officially."

"But you have your suspicions?" she smiled, winking at Hotch, then checking on the various printouts and screens on Lisa's monitors.

"She seems to believe it's a boy," he softly laughed, squeezing Lisa's hand.

"And why is that?" Anna asked.

"Once he started moving, his personality was purely male," Lisa said, with a tentative smile.

"Well, male or female, this little one has a good strong heart beat."

Hotch squeezed her hand again and said, "Now, if we can just get his Mom back on her feet."

"That's what we're working on, Aaron," Anna said, then, "Did Dr Ben tell you that I'd be coming in with some background questions?"

"He did," Lisa said.

"Okay, it's good you're both here, there are some questions for the baby's father too…"

Lisa and Hotch exchanged a look, and then Lisa spoke. "Well, let's get these things out of the way."

"Okay," Anna said, looking at the list, "First, we're going to take care of the family disease history. I'll need you both to answer for each. We'll start with diabetes."

They both answered "no."

"Kidney disease?"

Again two "no's".

"Heart disease?"

Lisa shook her head, but Hotch spoke. "Yes."

Anna looked up, "Which side of your family?"

"My father had a heart attack at 47," he simply said.

Anna wrote on the chart, "Did he have any further heart problems?"

Hotch shook his head, "No, he didn't survive the first heart attack."

Anna wrote again, then, said, "High blood pressure?"

It was Gina's turn to answer, "My dad."

"Cancer?"

"My mother," Gina quietly said. "Breast cancer."

"And you both? Have either of you experienced any of those conditions?"

"No," Hotch said, "Neither of us."

"Now, I understand that you both are in law enforcement," Anna began, "But the following questions are necessary and your answers will not go any further than Dr. Ben. Lisa when was the last time you've had any alcoholic beverages?"

"Two weekends before I found out I was pregnant," she replied. "I stopped drinking once I found out."

"Good," Anna smiled, "Now, have either of you taken any prescription medication?"

"Birth control pills," Lisa dryly said, "For all the good they did."

"Anything else?"

"Zyrtec," she said.

"Aaron?"

"I had surgery in October," Hotch replied, "And they gave me morphine and Percocet. But before that, nothing."

"Okay, now, Lisa, have you ever taken any of the following drugs, even once: marijuana, cocaine, amphetamines, heroine?"

"Um…" she thoughtfully replied, "Yes. Marijuana a couple of times in high school and amphetamines once or twice in college to get through exams, but that's it, never since. Check my Bureau App... it says the same thing. Some party animal I am, huh?"

Anna smiled at her, then, "Aaron?"

Looking away from Lisa, he quietly said, "Yes."

"Yes?" Lisa repeated, clearly surprised. In all of the years she'd known him, he'd never once mentioned anything about it.

"Aaron?" Anna prompted.

"Marijuana, in high school. I stopped smoking in Senior Year and haven't done anything more than a Tylenol until my surgery in October," he said, looking at his wife, who instantly read his embarrassment.

"And now, for what's usually the most embarrassing question," Anna said.

"I think we already hit that one," Hotch muttered, "But go on…"

"When was the last time you had sex?" she asked.

They looked at each other and Lisa spoke, "What's today?"

"Tuesday," Hotch answered, "So it was…Sunday?"

She nodded, "Yes, Sunday."

"Okay," Anna said, sheepishly, "It gets worse…would you consider it to have been vigorous or anything out of the norm?"

"No," Lisa shook her head, "It was pretty mellow…it was Sunday afternoon during the Orioles game…nothing too crazy there."

Anna laughed, "You sound like me and my husband. And I thought we were the only ones who did that." Anna checked her chart, "Just one more question and we're done."

"Go on," Lisa nodded.

"Lisa, your chart indicates that this is your first pregnancy, correct?"

Lisa nodded.

"Aaron, do you have any other children?"

"A son, he's four."

"Did his mother have any difficulty with her pregnancy?"

Hotch shook his head, "No. Nothing out of the ordinary."

"Okay," Anna said, "That's it. Sorry to have been so intrusive, but we're looking for every angle."

"It's okay," Lisa dismissed, feeling strangely tired.

"I'm going to give this to Dr. Ben, Lisa get some rest, okay?"

After Anna left, Hotch turned to Lisa and said, "I…um…"

"You were a stoner?" Lisa asked, a smile playing on her lips.

"When I got to high school and joined the track team…I was good, made Varsity my first year and fell in with a group of Seniors. I thought I was hot shit, a freshman hanging with the seniors, so when they invited me to hang out, I went. They got high and when they asked me to, I guess I went along to be part of the group," he shrugged.

"So, when did Stoner Aaron stand up to the peer pressure and become Straight Laced Aaron?" she asked, as the automated blood pressure cuff began to inflate.

Pulling his eyes from the machine, he looked back at her, "Believe it or not, it was Hayley who got me to stop. We started dating during Junior Year. She was your stereotypical good girl cheerleader…"

Lisa rolled her eyes.

"Anyway, she finally told me that we would never go all the way as long as I was smoking, so I stopped."

"That's it?" she laughed, as the cuff began its reading. "She made you choose between pot and sex?"

"I was 16, Lise," he shrugged, "I followed my gonads."

"Well, good damn thing," she smiled, feeling strangely light headed. "Cuz if you turned out to be some kind of stoner following the Grateful Dead or something, I'd have never met you."

"Yeah, well," he shrugged. "You can laugh, but I'm not proud of it."

"Hotch, you were a kid," she dismissed, as the reading finished and the machine emitted a sharp whining sound. "What the fuck is that?"

A moment later Anna and Dr. Ben walked into the room and straight to the machine.

"What is that?" Lisa demanded, as Dr. Ben pushed a series of buttons and the sound stopped.

"That," Dr. Ben replied, turning back to look at her, "Was the alarm that tells me your blood pressure is still too high." He gave her one of his reassuring smiles, "Which I expected. We're going to start you on another medication…"

"Wait," she said, doing her best to remain calm, "Before you do anything, I will not take any medication that could harm the baby."

"And I promise you, I won't give you any," Dr Ben said, squeezing her hand. "I'm looking out for both of you, Lisa. We need to get your pressure down because not only can it possibly force you into seizures or a stroke, but it can also cause damage to the placenta. So, what I need from you is calm. I know you're scared, I know you're totally freaking out. I would be too, but you're going to have to become very Zen about things…"

"I'll do my best," she promised, exchanging a glance with her husband, "Zen isn't something I do very well."

"I'm sure Aaron will keep you in line. Now, let me go order the new meds," he said, standing up. He looked at Hotch and, in a tone that was almost brotherly, he said, "We're going to get through this, Aaron."

"Thanks, Ben," he nodded, watching as Anna and Dr Ben left the room.

"He's right, you know," Hotch quietly said, taking her hand and giving it a squeeze.

"About?"

"We're going to get through this," he decisively said.

"I'm going to hold you to that statement."

XXXXX

Lisa O'Reilly Hotchner had had enough. Enough of monitors, enough of machines, enough of the incredibly uncomfortable hospital bed, and enough of pregnancy all together. She swore on all that was holy that as soon as the doctor gave her the go ahead, she would have a tubal ligation because, as much as she loved this baby, and as much as she loved her husband, she would never put herself in this situation again.

In the five days she'd been laying in that uncomfortable hospital bed, her blood pressure had nearly stabilized and the protein in her urine was nearly non existent. The contractions, however, were still occasionally coming on. They had waited until everything else was back to normal before starting her on Brethene, which they swore would stop them. So far, she'd gone contraction free for nearly 24 hours, she hoped that was enough to send her home.

Granted, going home meant something completely different now. Now, it meant she would have to spend the rest of her pregnancy at home, doing as little as possible, laying on her left side, and avoiding caffeine and salt. This regimen would continue until she hit 36 weeks of pregnancy, then she would be able to safely pop Little Hotch out and get on with her life.

Sighing, she looked around the pale pink room she'd been held prisoner in for four days. She decided that she hated pink, especially pale pink. As she contemplated painting the room, the door opened. She looked up, waiting to see which nurse was coming in to poke or prod her now.

She was surprised to find Hotch walking into her room. He looked as drained as she felt, but still he wore a smile/

"Hey," she said, with a smile, "What are you doing here?"

"I wanted to be here for the ultrasound," he said, kissing her softly.

"But I thought you had a meeting with Erin Strauss," she protested

"I did," he shrugged.

"And how the hell did you get out of a mandatory meeting with the Ice Queen?"

"I walked into her office first thing this morning with my files and a large caramel mocha cappuccino and she was putty in my hands."

Lisa laughed. "If you brought me a caramel mocha cappuccino I'd be putty in your hands."

"You don't like caramel," he countered, "And you aren't allowed caffeine."

"Spoil sport," she groused, as the door opened again and Dr. Ben Bergen walked in.

"Lisa, Aaron," he said, with a smile, "How are you this morning?"

"Ready to get out of here," Lisa hopefully said.

"Well, funny you should bring that up," he said, checking the readout of the tocometer, "I've bumped you up to the Four dimensional ultrasound this morning, it gives a much more detailed view. If the baby's lungs look good on this ultrasound, I see no reason why we can't release you home…with restrictions." He looked up at her, as a nurse brought in a wheel chair. "Now, assuming I release you, can I trust you to follow my strict guide lines?"

"She will," Hotch firmly said. "If I need to take the next six weeks off and monitor her myself."

"Lisa?"

"I will," she nodded, "Now, can we get this show on the road?"

After helping her into the wheelchair, the nurse walked them down to the ultrasound lab. Once Lisa as settled on the exam table, an older African-American woman walked into the room.

"Mrs. Hotchner," she began with a clipped British accent, "I'm Dr. Abeni Bolade, and Dr Bergen has asked me to take a look at your little one." She smiled at Lisa, "You've had a tough go this past week, haven't you?"

"Yeah," Lisa nodded, "I'm hoping everything's okay, so we can get out of this place. No offense."

"None taken," she returned, squirting gel on Lisa's stomach. "The joy of the four dimensional ultrasound is that the results are more of a photograph than the black and white grainy shots you're used to seeing. The practicality is that they produce much more detailed views of all internal organs." She placed the wand on Lisa's stomach, "If you watch the screen," Dr. Bolade said, "You'll get your first true view of the baby's face."

They watched the video screen as a sepia toned face appeared with an unmistakable smile.

"He's smiling," Lisa said, her voice barely a whisper.

"He is," Hotch echoed, his eyes glued to the screen.

"Look!" Lisa grinned, watching as the baby raised its hands and tried to push away the offending camera. "He already hates the paparazzi!"

"He gets that same expression you do when you're pissed," Hotch softly laughed.

"I'm taking some still shots for you," Dr. Bolade said, "I need to pull away from the face for a few moments to check out the rest of the organs."

They watched as the doctor surveyed the baby's heart and lungs, pronouncing them both well formed and properly developed, then moved down to the stomach and intestines. As she drew the wand down lower, Dr. Bolade quickly flipped off the monitor, looking alarmed.

"Wait!" Lisa cried, "What's wrong?"

"Is there a problem?" Hotch asked, with the well practiced official tone he reserved for crisis situations.

"I'm sorry to alarm you," Dr. Bolade smiled, "But I didn't know if you wanted to know the baby's gender…and it was about to become very obvious."

Lisa released the breath she'd been holding and looked at Hotch, "Do you want to know?"

"Do you?"

"Don't turn this around on me, Hotchner," she laughed. "I asked first."

"We've seen the rest," he thoughtfully said, "We might as well go all the way."

Lisa smiled, "I'm glad you feel that way, because I was going to say yes." She looked at Dr. Bolade, "We're ready."

"Okay," she smiled, flipping on the screen, "Say hello to your daughter."

"Daughter?" Hotch asked, surprised by her announcement.

"Yes, Mr. Hotchner," Dr. Bolade said, pointing to the screen, "See, there's the labia and that's the…"

He held up a hand, having seen more of his soon-to-be daughter than he needed to, "I know what that is."

"Daughter," Lisa echoed.

"You weren't expecting the baby to be female?" Dr. Bolade said with a laugh.

"I would have sworn she was a boy," Lisa said, wondering why there were tears in her eyes, "But she's not…" She looked at he husband. "Hotch…she's a girl."

"That she is," he nodded, a broad beaming smile taking over his features, "Guess we need to start looking for girls' names now?"

"Glad we never got around to painting the nursery," she mused, watching as the doctor cleaned the gel from her stomach.

"Shit!" he replied, as if suddenly reminded of his obligation, "The nursery…we've got to do that…"

"Relax, Mr. Hotchner," Dr. Bolade chuckled, handing them a stack of printed pictures, "You've still got some time. Your little girl is still growing and she looks perfectly content where she is."

"See," Lisa said, squeezing his hand, "We're not getting out of this pregnancy thing quite yet."

"That's okay with me," he softly said, bringing her hand to his lips and kissing it.

"Yeah," she agreed. "Me, too."


	12. A Little Late for Second Thoughts

_**What whiskey will not cure, there is no cure for.**_

_**Irish Proverbs **_

Aaron Hotchner sat at the bar looking down into the glass of amber liquid he held in both hands. Somewhere, in the back of his mind, he knew he should be going home. He'd left Lisa and Jack, curled up on the sofa, watching _**Finding Nemo**_, with a promise that he'd only go for "one and done".

To her credit, Lisa encouraged him to go out. She told him he needed it, told him to have one for her. But despite her words of encouragement, he saw the look of envy in her eyes. He nearly stayed home, but she shooed him out the door.

And there he sat, on his third drink, watching while Morgan and Reid were putting the moves on two very good looking women and Rossi sat playing the video poker machine. He was way past "one and done" and on his way to drunk. As he finished his drink, he realized that this was the first time he'd been drunk without Lisa in more than a year.

"What's that look for?" Rossi asked, studying his friend and former protégé.

"What look?" Hotch returned, casting his eyes to the older man.

"You're looking at that drink like it's going to tell you something," he laughed.

"I wish it would," he returned, morosely.

"What's eating you?"

He shrugged. "I said I was going for one and done."

"And that's your third," was his knowing reply. "Feeling guilty?"

"I should be, shouldn't I?" Hotch returned, fixing his severely buzzed gaze on his friend, "But I don't. Does that make me an asshole?"

"Because you're out with your friends, having a few drinks? No."

Hotch shook his head, "No, because I left my sick pregnant wife at home with my terrorist of a son and I'm sitting here drinking."

Rossi laughed, "Hotch, she told you to go. She's fine. What's eating you?"

Hotch finished his drink and set the empty glass on the bar. "What the fuck am I doing, Dave?"

"Getting drunk?"

"That's not what I mean…" he returned, watching as the bartender refilled his glass. "Am I out of my fucking mind?"

"Out of your mind as far as what?"

"Look at me," he sniffed, "The ink was barely dry on my divorce and I got married again. And if that wasn't enough, I had to knock her up on top of it. Jesus, Dave…what was I thinking?"

"I'm not sure what you were thinking," Rossi mused, "But you know damn well that you and Lisa belong together."

"Do we?" he asked, looking back into the amber liquid. "I mean, what if she could've found someone better? Someone who's not over worked, over stressed, over analyzing…"

Rossi laughed, "It's a little late for second thoughts now, isn't it?"

Hotch shook his head, "I'm a glutton for punishment, Dave. It wasn't bad enough that I had to fuck up my marriage to Hayley, no I had to jump right in with Lisa and now she's pregnant. Do you know what that means?"

"It means you're going to have another child?"

"Exactly," he nodded, full of drunken wisdom, "It means I've got another family to destroy."

"Hotch…"

"No, Dave, it's true. I'm still doing the same job…"

"Yeah, but this time things are different," he softly said, "Lisa does the same job you do. She knows what it is."

"Now," he insisted, "But when I'm stuck out in the middle of East Bumblefuck, Nebraska, and she's home with a screaming crying baby…"

With a devilish twinkle in his eye, Rossi said, "This is Lisa O'Reilly we're talking about Hotch. Who says it won't be you staying home with the screaming crying baby?"

Hotch's eyes grew wide, as if considering that option for the first time. "Shit…you think she'd do that?"

"She's got her own career, Man, it could happen."

Hotch rubbed his hands over his face, "I never thought about that. It could happen."

Rossi laughed, a deep, true laugh, causing the younger man to fix him with a glare that could only be described as petulant.

"I'm glad you think this is funny," Hotch smartly returned.

"I do," Rossi laughed, "You're scared shitless and I think it's hysterical."

"I knew I could count on you for support, Dave," he sniffed, taking a large mouthful of scotch.

Rossi softened and quietly said, "I've been waiting for this. You got caught up in the whirlwind that's Lisa O'Reilly and it finally hit home."

He shook his head, "This isn't her fault. I was as much a part of it as she was. Hell, Dave, she didn't get herself pregnant."

"No, Hotch, that was all you."

Hotch nodded, then grinned, "Yeah, that was me." His expression grew serious. "It's not that I don't love her. Shit…I thought I knew what it was like, you know? When me and Hayley got together, I thought I that was it. It was the end all be all love story." He gave a snorting laugh, "I was so wrong."

Rossi had drunk just enough to push him to keep talking. "What the hell are you talking about?"

"Love, Dave. I'm talking about love."

"Oh, okay, Cupid, talk on."

Rolling his eyes, Hotch continued, "Where was I? Oh yeah, love." He nodded, then, "See, Dave, I love Lisa."

"Yeah, I know." He said with a fond smile, "Then why the hell are you freaking out?"

"Because," he said, with a look that told Rossi he was gearing up for a big announcement. "I woke up this morning and realized that I'm 47 years old…with a second wife, a second child on the way, a second house. And in all of my adult life, I've only been single for about six months. And I spent those six months chained to my freaking desk."

"So you're saying you should have played the field more?"

"Yes…no…I don't know!" he shook his head, then, with narrowed eyes, "So you realize, that I've only made love to three women, Dave? Three…that's it. Not counting the girls in high school, before Hayley, cuz shit, I had no idea what the hell I was doing." Hotch took another drink, "You've had what? 300?"

"And I would trade it all to say I've had three I've really loved, Hotch," Rossi seriously said. "It's taken me 53 years to find a woman I can say I've really made love to…and you've had three." His mind finally processed Hotch's last declaration and he asked, "Who's the third?"

"What?" Hotch asked, surprised by the question.

"The third woman? Who was it?"

Waving his hand in dismissal, he said, "Kate Joyner. Tell me you didn't figure that out on your own."

"I suspected," he mused, "Didn't know for sure."

Holding his glass up in mock toast Hotch said, "Well, now you know. And you know what a pathetic excuse for a man I am."

"Jesus," Rossi laughed, "I cannot believe we're sitting here having this conversation. You're married to one of the most amazing women I've ever met. A woman, I will remind you, that I was too damn stupid to hold on to."

Hotch allowed a smile, "Yeah, you were. You really fucked that one up, you know."

"This I know, my friend," he allowed. "But it worked out better this way. I couldn't be the man Lisa needed."

"You seem to be doing okay with JJ."

Rossi smiled, "I am, but I've…matured since then."

"Grown up is more like it," Hotch laughed.

"Yeah, that too," he allowed, taking a sip of his scotch, "I don't know, Hotch. JJ is different and she brings out the good in me. Kinda like you and Lisa. You wanna know what I think?"

"Enlighten me."

"I think that you've got one hell of a sweet set up. You've got a woman, who's not only hot, but she's known you for years and despite that, she's totally into you. You've got a son who, despite his closet monster infestation issues, is smart as hell, and you've got a daughter on the way. You've got it all, man."

"A daughter," Hotch echoed, as if saying the words aloud for the first time.

"And that's what's scaring the shit out of you, isn't it?" Rossi knowingly asked.

"Yeah, Jack's a boy; he's easy to figure out. I can teach him t ball and stuff. But a girl?"

"Get ready for tea parties and Barbie dolls," he teased, "And prom dresses."

"And boys," Hotch winced. "How am I going to protect her from guys like us?"

"Shit," Rossi agreed, "That is a sobering thought."

"Tell me about it."

"Well, you do realize that she stands a good chance that she'll turn out just like her mother."

Hotch took a deep breath and released it slowly. "Yeah, but then again, her mother fell for both of us."

"Touché."

"I dunno, Dave," he said, his tone somber, "I just don't want to fuck this up."

"Than don't fuck it up."

Hotch laughed. "That's it? Those are your words of wisdom?"

"What do you want from me? I've been married and divorced three times. I don't give advice; I serve as a bad example!"

XXXXX

Lisa sat on the sofa watching the 11 pm news. She'd contemplated going up to bed, but Hotch had texted her to say he was on his way home. Of course, by the amount of typos in his text, she hoped he wasn't driving.

Hearing a car in the driveway she looked out the window to find Rossi's car parked in front of the garage. She watched as Hotch slowly got out of the car and made his way to the house. He was doing his damnedest to walk normally, but there was a sway to his gait that she knew came from excess alcohol consumption. Smiling, she opened the front door.

"I can explain," he said, as he walked in.

"Explain what?"

"This…me…" he shook his head, and then steadied himself.

"I can explain it too," she laughed. "You're drunk."

"I am," he seriously said.

Lisa looked back down at Rossi's car and waved to him. He waved back then backed down the driveway, while she shut and locked the front door.

"Come on," she said, taking his hand, "Let's get you to bed."

He allowed her to lead him upstairs and into their bedroom.

"Can you get undressed or do you need help?" she asked, with a wry smile.

"I c'n do it," he replied, and then slowly stripped down to his boxers.

"Come on," she said, turning down the covers, "Why don't you lay down?"

"Wait," he said, grabbing her hand.

"What?"

"I love you, Lisa," he said, his tone gravely serious.

"I love you too," she smiled, "Now, come on, get into bed."

"No, you don't understand," he protested.

"What don't I understand?"

"See…I figured it all out tonight. This," he said, motioning around him, "Is what I want."

"The bedroom?" she asked, brow raised.

"Yes…no…" he took a moment to gather his thoughts, "You, the house, the bedroom, the baby, everything," he insisted.

"Did you have any doubts?"

He nodded, a sad expression on his face, "For about an hour or two tonight, yeah, I did." He hung his head, "I'm sorry, Lisa. I'm a fucking idiot."

"Aaron Michael Hotchner," she softly said, causing him to raise his eyes to her. "It's taken you until now to freak out?"

"I shouldn't have…"

Lisa started to laugh,

"What? I don't think it's funny," he sniffed, "I had a total melt down at the bar tonight."

"Shit, you should have seen me the day I found out I was pregnant," she laughed. "Melt down doesn't even come close!"

"But I went out and got drunk…"

"Honey, don't you think I would have if I could have?"

"Yeah, but…"

"But you want to beat yourself up for going out and having a couple of drinks with the guys and having a reality check." She leaned forward and kissed him softly. "I am not going to get mad at you about tonight."

"You should."

She shook her head, "If you did this all the time, yeah, I'd be pissed. But the last time you got this drunk…well," she smiled, slipping her arms around him, "You were with me…down in Dumfries…"

"I remember that night," he said with a sloppy smile.

"Yeah, me too," she nodded, "Now, you need to get some sleep. You're going to have one hell of a hangover tomorrow and when Jack shows up at the door at 7:30, you're going to need all the strength you can get."

"Sleeps sounds good," he agreed, sitting on the bed. "Shit…sex sounds better, but I don't think I can…"

"That's okay," she soothed, easing him back onto the pillows. "There's always tomorrow night."

"Tomorrow night," he mumbled, closing his eyes.

"Yeah, tomorrow night," she laughed, watching as he fell into a deep sleep.


	13. Say Hello to Your Daughter

"_**To witness the birth of a child is our best opportunity to experience the meaning of the word miracle."**_

_**Paul Carvel**_

Hearing Lisa's voice calling his name, Hotch stirred from his sleep. Opening his eyes to the bright room, he winced in pain, and then closed his eyes.

"I'm up…" he mumbled, "What?"

"Hotch, I need you to wake up," she calmly said. Too calmly.

Opening his eyes slowly, he focused on her face. Something was not right, he could tell by the set of her jaw. "What's wrong?"

"Aun' Lisa's having the baby," Jack announced, bouncing up onto the bed next to his father.

"What?!"

"The baby's comin'," he simply said.

"He overheard me on the phone to Dr. Ben," she smiled, as Jack knelt on the bed next to her and placed his small hands on her stomach.

"Wait…its Saturday. Why would you be talking to Dr. Ben on Saturday?" Hotch asked, willing his hangover clouded mind to focus.

"I'm in labor," she calmly said. "And I need you to get up and take a shower, so we can go to the hospital."

"Labor? Are you sure?"

"That's why I called Dr. Ben. See, I woke up feeling kinda strange, and then, I noticed this."

She stood up and Hotch noticed that her stomach sat much lower than it had last night. He knew that sign, he'd seen it before, "The baby dropped."

"Yeah," she agreed.

He watched as her brows furrowed and she grimaced. "Was that a contraction?"

She nodded, then slowly released the breath she'd been holding. "Ten minutes apart. Dr. Ben gave me an hour to get to Georgetown."

"An hour," he nodded, brain kicking into gear. He sat up quickly, too quickly, as the room began to spin and his stomach churned violently. "Oh shit…"

"Shit!" Jack laughed.

"Jack…" Hotch groaned, "You know better."

"So do you, Daddy," he reminded.

Laughing, Lisa spoke, "I set a water bottle in the bathroom for you. Go, drink it and get a shower. I made a pot of coffee, too. I should be okay to drive us to the hospital if you don't feel up to it."

"You will not drive yourself to the hospital," he dismissed, standing up.

She watched as his skin paled, "Oh, Hotch, you are so not up for this."

"The hell I'm not," he returned, his tone firm. "I'm not going to miss my daughter's birth because I was an idiot. You and I have both gone to crime scenes worse off than this."

"Yeah, but that was many, many years ago."

"I can still do it," he countered, then looked at Jack. "Shit…Hayley's in North Carolina."

"Pen's going to meet us at the hospital," she explained.

"Aun' Pen!" Jack cheered. "I like her. She's fun."

Lisa watched as a look of sadness crossed her husband's face. "What's that look for?"

"Nothing," he dismissed, "Let me get a shower."

XXXXX

An hour later, Lisa lay in bed, in the same pale pink labor and delivery room she'd been in six weeks ago. She was attached to the same machines, and watching the same monitors. This time, however, she knew there was a light at the end of the tunnel and despite the increasing pain, she knew that shortly, this would all be over.

She looked over at Hotch. Despite his protests, she knew he felt like hell. He looked like hell, too. On some level, she felt sorry for him. He smiled at her.

"You okay?"

He nodded, "Yeah, I'll live. Call it penance."

"Penance for what?" Dr. Ben Bergen asked, walking into the room. He looked at Hotch, "Aaron, you don't look too good."

"I'll be okay," he dismissed.

"Stomach flu?"

"Glenlivet flu," Lisa slyly said, then felt another contraction begin, "Here we go again…"

Dr. Ben laughed, "Out celebrating, last night, Aaron?"

"Or something," Lisa said, through gritted teeth. "Damn…"

"They're getting stronger," Dr Ben observed, looking at the print out from the tocometer.

"I could've told you that," she sniffed.

"Let's see how you're doing as far as dilation, okay?" he winked, then looked at Hotch, "And I think I can help you out too."

"You're going to remove my head?" he moaned, massaging his temples.

Dr. Ben shook his head, "No, I'm going to hook you up to an IV. It'll clear your head and you won't feel so shitty."

"I can't let you do that," he protested, although the thought was very appealing.

"Yes, you can," Lisa said, as Dr Ben examined her. "I'm not going through the end of this alone. You might have been here before, but I haven't."

"Sounds like your decision has been made for you," the doctor chuckled. "Well, Lisa, you are completely effaced and dilated 4 centimeters."

"Only four?" she frowned.

"Just relax," he replied, adjusting the sheet so that she was once again covered. "It'll give Aaron time to rejoin the world of the living."

XXXXX

Despite the increasing discomfort she felt, Lisa did her best to focus on the television. She wished she could just get lost in the CHiPs episode she'd been watching. Unfortunately, she found that not only did she not have the patience to pay attention to the simple plot, but that she really wasn't as into Erik Estrada as she was as a teenager. As a matter of fact, halfway through the second episode, he'd seriously gotten on her nerves.

Or had he, she wondered. She turned to look at Hotch, whose lanky frame was sprawled out on the recliner next to the bed. He slept soundly as the saline solution dripped into his veins. She cast a look back at Erik Estrada and decided that he wasn't the one who'd gotten on her nerves today. No, it was Aaron Hotchner who'd put her into her current state, both physically and emotionally.

She wasn't mad at him for getting her pregnant, far from it. She'd been as much of a willing participant in each and every love making session they'd had, so which ever time that she actually did conceive was not fully his fault.

Her emotional state, however, was squarely his fault. Although, it didn't bother her one third as much last night as it did now. She'd been understanding. She'd been forgiving. Hell, she got it; she knew why he freaked out. She'd done it herself. But enough was enough. There was something grossly unfair about the fact that he was crashed out on a recliner, recuperating from drinking too much, while she lay in the most uncomfortable bed known to mankind, feeling worse and worse as each minute passed.

Looking at him, as he peacefully slept, she contemplated waking him up. She then contemplated waking him up and telling him off, but that wouldn't have been enough. As she breathed her way through another contraction, her thoughts turned to waking him up and then beating him senseless with the pole that held his IV.

Sure, she'd do jail time but that couldn't be any worse than what she was experiencing at that moment. Lisa rode out the rest of the contraction, visualizing cracking his skull with the shiny metal pole. She'd seen countless crime scene photographs, she knew how to do it right.

Then, as the contraction passed, he smiled in his sleep. A lock of dark hair had fallen across his forehead. He looked peaceful, relaxed, and absolutely adorable. This was the Hotch she knew and loved.

Every fiber of her being that had been visualizing his demise just one moment before, gave into a hormonal power surge, causing her to decide that she couldn't possibly beat him senseless when he looked so damn cute.

Sighing to herself, she turned her attention back to Erik Estrada and waited for the next contraction.

XXXXX

Aaron Hotchner woke with a start, opening his eyes to find that he wasn't in his own bedroom, or even one of the countless hotel rooms he occupied while away on a case. This room was strangely familiar but he couldn't quite place it.

"It's about time you joined us," Lisa's voice began from his right causing him to snap his head in her direction. "Feeling better?"

"Yeah," he replied, rubbing his face with his hands, "How long was I out?"

"Three hours and three centimeters," she laughed. "And the contractions are now about three minutes apart."

"Why didn't you wake me?"

"You didn't miss much," she shrugged. "There's a 24 hour CHiPs marathon on TBS. You'll probably be able to catch it tonight when you get home."

There was something in her eyes that he couldn't quite read. "What's wrong?"

She shook her head, tears welling up in her eyes.

Sitting up quickly, he took her hand, "Lisa, talk to me. What is it?"

"I'm scared," she admitted.

"You're almost done," he tried.

"Yeah, but," she stopped, as another contraction hit.

"Breathe, Lisa," he instructed, "Like we learned in class."

She followed him in the breathing exercises, then relaxed as the contraction passed.

"Now," he said, watching as the tears fell, "What's got you scared?"

"Everything," she sniffed. "What if I'm a lousy mother?"

"Lisa," he softly said, "You won't be."

"How do you know?"

"You're great with Jack."

"Yeah, but Jack was already started by the time I took an active part in his life," she continued, placing her hands on her stomach. "But she's going to be a blank slate…"

"You will do fine," he promised.

"And then there's you…" she said, as another contraction took over. She breathed her way through it and when it passed, she closed her eyes.

"What about me?" he quietly asked, guilt rearing up and slamming him between the eyes.

"You have doubts…" she quietly said, her eyes wide and childlike. He'd never seen her like this and it cut him to the core.

"_**Had **_doubts, Lise, _**had**_. For like an hour," he quickly said. "It was a stupid, immature hour of self absorption, but it's gone."

Pain and emotion had taken over and she wasn't swayed by his response. "What kind of life is she gonna have with a mother who's scared and a father who isn't sure he even wants to be here?"

He sat, stunned by her words. Now, that his head was clear, he could take stock of what his evening of drunken cowardice had cost. Closing his eyes, he tried to come up with something to say to her.

"Shit," she gasped, causing his eyes to fly open.

"What?"

"I feel like I need to push," she said.

"Don't push," he nervously responded, "You're not ready."

"Somebody needs to tell my body that," she said, as another contraction started.

"Let me get Dr. Ben," he said, standing up. He tried to take a step away, but she held his hand tightly.

"No, you're not leaving me," she ground out.

Sitting back down, he pulled the cord for the call bell. "Stay focused, do your breathing."

"I am," she said, fear being replaced by determination. "I am."

As the contraction passed, Dr. Ben walked into the room.

"What's going on in here, Hotchner's?"

"I need to push," Lisa calmly said.

Raising a brow, he sat at the end of the bed and lifted the sheet. "Well, well, well…"

"Well, well, well?" Lisa echoed, "What the hell does that mean?"

"It means, you're fully dilated and the baby is crowning," he winked, as he casually started to break down the bed and attach the stirrups. "Want to see your daughter, Aaron?"

Hotch stood and looked down at his hand, "I'm gonna need my hand."

She released his hand and he walked to the end of the bed.

"Look," Dr Ben said, "You've got another redhead."

XXXXX

Lisa watched as Hotch walked to the foot of the bed and looked. Somewhere, in the back of her mind, it struck her that there were two men staring intently at her genitalia, but she pushed that thought aside. "She's a redhead?" she asked.

Hotch looked up at her with a smile, "Same color as yours."

"Get out," she laughed, "And what was that about dominant genes?"

"I have no doubt she will be your mini me," he decided, walking back up to the head of the bed.

"You're in trouble, Aaron," Dr. Ben chucked, as a young nurse helped him don gloves.

"Don't I know it," Hotch returned, taking Lisa's hand. He brought it to his lips and kissed it.

"Here comes another one," Lisa said, as she felt the start of another contraction. This one was stronger and more painful than the last one and her body was wracked with an overwhelming desire to push.

"Lisa," Dr. Ben calmly said, "You can push with this one. Just bear down and remember to breathe."

"Okay…" she said, bearing down and pushing.

"That's it, Lisa," the doctor continued, "Here comes the head."

Hotch looked up at the mirror behind the doctor and watched as the baby's head emerged.

Once the contraction had passed, Lisa turned towards him, "I'm not looking in the mirror," she said. "There are just some views of myself I don't want to see."

"I've seen that view once or twice," he winked, "I can handle it."

"Not like that you haven't," she sniffed. "You'll probably never want to see it again."

"Not true," Hotch replied, drawing a black look from his wife. "I promise."

Dr. Ben laughed, as another contraction hit, "Okay, Lisa, this is the big one. You've got to push the shoulders out, once you get them through the rest will just come right out. Are you ready?"

"Let's do it," she said, as a wave of pain unlike any other hit her, "Oh, shit…" she gasped, willing her body to keep pushing despite the pain. "Oh, shit…this fucking hurts!"

"You're almost there, Lisa," Hotch coached, focusing on her face. "Just hang in a little bit more…"

"Almost done," Dr. Ben encouraged, "Now, just push…"

Lisa did as she was told and then, when the wave passed, she fell back onto the pillows, exhausted.

"And here she is!" Dr. Ben announced, as the baby began to cry. He set the crying infant on Lisa's stomach. "Say hello to your daughter."

"Oh my God," Lisa said, "Look at her."

"She's beautiful," Hotch replied, stroking the baby's cheek with his thumb, "Just like her mother." He leaned over and kissed Lisa's forehead.

"Aaron, would you like to cut the cord?" Dr. Ben asked.

Lisa watched as he walked to the foot of the bed and with a serious expression, took the surgical scissors. He stood for a moment, fighting with his emotions, before cutting the cord, then handed the scissors back to the doctor and walked back up to the head of the bed.

"Mrs. Hotchner" began the nurse, "I'm going to take her and get her weighed and measured and cleaned up, okay?"

"Where are you taking her?" Hotch asked, his voice taking on an official tone.

"Right over here, Mr. Hotchner," the nurse smiled. "We'll have her back in your arms in a couple of minutes."

Lisa smiled, noting that his eyes remained trained on their daughter as the nurse carried her across the room. "So," she said, "We need to give her a name."

"I thought you wanted to name her Colleen, for your mother," he replied, pulling his eyes from the baby back to her.

"I kinda like your suggestion from the other night," she smiled. "Remember when we were lying in bed?"

He thought back to that night, remembering how, for the first time since she'd gotten sick, they'd made love. Afterwards, they lay holding each other, with the radio softly playing classic rock in the background. The Allman Brothers "Sweet Melissa" began to play and he commented on how it had always been one of his favorite songs. He said he liked the name.

"Melissa?" he asked, with a smile of his own. "But, you liked Colleen."

"I think Melissa Colleen Hotchner has more of a ring to it," Lisa mused.

The nurse brought the baby to him. They'd swaddled her in a bright pink blanket and placed a white cap on her head.

"Mr. Hotchner," she smiled, "Would you like to hold your daughter while Dr. Ben finishes working on your wife?"

XXXXX

"Sure," he replied, as the nurse handed him the baby. He looked down at his daughter, amazed at her soft pink skin and her dark, alert eyes that stared back at him. "Ten minutes old and she's already learned to stare me down," he said, hearing the emotion in his own voice.

"Wonder if profiling skills are inborn," Lisa asked.

He looked up at her, "Lisa…" he said, suddenly at a loss for words. Emotions overtook him and he could feel control slipping away. Mentally, he degraded himself for ever doubting that this was the life he wanted. "Last night…" he began, cursing himself for the tears that were threatening to fall.

"Last night doesn't matter any more," she smiled, watching as he cuddled the baby to his chest. "This is what matters."

"I promise you," he said, pressing his lips to her forehead and kissing her softly. "That this is what I want for the rest of my life."

"Ten minutes old and she's already got you wrapped around her finger, huh?" she laughed.

"Almost as much as her mother does," he winked, kissing her lips. "I love you, Lisa."

"I love you, too, Hotch."


	14. Six Weeks

**__**

"Your life changes the moment you make a new, congruent, and committed decision."

Anthony Robbins

Melissa Colleen Hotchner was officially six weeks old, a fact that had not escaped her father's notice for many reasons.

He'd missed two of those weeks being on the road with work, but found that the wonders of modern technology took away some of the sting. Lisa had taken numerous pictures with her camera and cell phone and had been great about sending them to him. Even Garcia helped out by hooking Lisa up with a webcam so that at night, when he went back to his hotel room, he could check in and see them "in action". It wasn't the same as being there, but it helped.

Six weeks meant a lot for Lisa, too. She was now allowed to drive again, which she overjoyed about. Of course, this meant that Hotch now had to drive her Spyder, as a two seat sports car was no place for a baby seat. He didn't really mind swapping his "oh-so-sensible" Jeep Commander for her little red convertible. She, on the other hand, had her reservations.

He knew, no matter what vehicle she would have to drive, Lisa would be loading Melissa into her car seat and making the trek to Quantico. He'd heard through the grapevine that their first visit was scheduled for tomorrow. Not that she'd said anything to him, of course. She anticipated his protest, not that he could stop her from coming in. As much as she loved being home with Melissa, she loved being at Quantico as well. He was quite certain that his daughter would grow up thinking of it as her second home.

As he lay his sleeping daughter down in her crib, he thought about the other importance of the six week mark. Dr. Ben had told them that Lisa would have to abstain from any sexual activity for six weeks following Melissa's birth. Assuming everything healed as necessary, today's office visit would give them the green light to resume normal activity.

She'd called him after her appointment and told him that the green light had been given. This small bit of news had totally derailed any hopes of concentrating for the rest of the day.

It had only been six weeks, but for them, six weeks was an eternity. Add to it the fact that, since giving birth, Lisa had returned to her pre pregnancy weight, but her curves were fuller, as were her breasts, thanks to the fact that she was breastfeeding. She said she still felt fat, but to him, she was anything but fat.

He knew it was a cliché, but there was something sexy about her new motherhood role. She'd probably kill him if he dare say it aloud, but there was a serenity to her that he hadn't really seen before. Sure, the "old Lisa" was still there, but this new Lisa held all sorts of possibilities.

"Did you get her to sleep?" Lisa's voice called from the bedroom.

"I did," he replied, walking into the room and finding her sitting on the end of the bed. She was wearing a short pale green silk and lace shift. Giving her a long once over, he smiled. "That's new."

"Do you like it?" she asked, standing up and walking to him.

"I do," he replied, taking her into his arms, "But I think I'd like it better on the floor."

"I don't know," she returned, with a smile that he saw right through, "I probably look better with it on."

He kissed her deeply then stepped back, "I don't think so," he said, slipping the straps from her shoulders and allowing the silk and lace to fall from her breasts. He bent and kissed each one softly, then slipped the rest of the silk down over her hips, allowing it to puddle on the floor.

"That's better," he said, stepping back and taking a moment to study her body.

"Hotch," she blushed "Stop…"

"I want to look at you," was his sure repair.

"Trying to decide if you still find me attractive?" she sheepishly said.

"Lisa," he softly said, surprised by her embarrassment. "What would make you think I wasn't still attracted to you? One look should tell you I am."

"Yeah…but…"

"No buts," he said, kissing her.

"Look at me, I'm all out of shape," she sighed, "Not that I ever was in shape. But come on…"

"You had a baby six weeks ago," he said, running his hands along her arms, "And nobody could tell by looking at you."

"In clothes," she said, "But naked? Look at me…"

"I am looking at you and I like what I see," he went on, his hands traveling along the soft curves of her hips. "Whether you believe it or not, I find you more desirable now."

"Hotch…"

"Lisa," he kissed her deeply, backing her to the bed, "Just stop talking and stop fighting me." Once he lay her down, he stepped back and quickly removed his clothing. As he slipped into bed next to her he took her in his arms, "I am going to make love to you, because I want you." He kissed her deeply. And then, as he kissed his way along her neck to her shoulders and then down her chest, he said, "I find you attractive…desirable…sexy…beautiful…"

"Stop," she giggled, "I get it, I get it."

He looked up at her with a smile, "I'm not sure you do…" he said, kissing a trail long her stomach.

"What are you doing?" she giggled again, as he reached the soft, freshly shaved skin between her thighs.

"If you recall," he said, sliding his tongue along her skin, "You told me that I would never want to view this part of your anatomy again. I'm going to prove you wrong."

"You don't have to…" she said, as he began to work her slowly, distracting her from her protest. "You are so damn good at that…"

He chucked, his lips vibrating against her sensitive skin, before he began to work again. It didn't take him long to bring her to an explosive climax. As she came down from her peak, he moved up to face level.

"So…" he smugly said, "What was that you said about me not wanting to view it?"

"Stop gloating, Hotchner," she said, trying to catch her breath. "I'm allowed a little insecurity now and then."

"That's the one thing you never have to be insecure about," he returned, pulling her to him. She kissed him deeply while taking him into her hand and caressing him. "Lisa," he said, as her caresses turned to sure, purposeful strokes. "I need you."

She smiled, "Do you now?"

"You know I do," he countered, laying her back onto the pillows and leaning above her.

"Wait," she said, placing her hands against his chest.

"What?" he asked, looking down at her. "What's wrong?"

"I love you dearly and I really do want you right now," she said, reaching over into the top drawer of his nightstand, "But I haven't had a pill in ten months. You are not going in unprotected."

Taking the small packet from her hands, he gave her a wry smile, "Come on, now," he laughed, slipping on the condom, "You don't want a set of Irish twins?"

"I am an Irish twin and I refuse to continue the tradition," she firmly said, "Now stop talking about bad things and just make love to me."

He didn't need any further instruction and began to make love to her in earnest. "You feel so good…" he murmured, feeling himself grow close to his end. He slowed his pace.

"Don't," she said, kissing him. "Just let go. We can take our time later."

No other words were necessary and a few brief moments later, he reached his peak with a deep throated groan and collapsed on top of her. As he rolled over onto the pillows, Lisa started laughing.

"What?" he asked, sitting up to remove the condom.

"You were just a wee little bit desperate, weren't you?"

"It's been six weeks," he laughed with her. "Although, I've got to get used to the whole condom thing again."

"Oh, you poor thing," she rolled her eyes. "You had to wait six weeks and then you had to go in wrapped."

As he lay back down, he noticed that her expression grew serious. "What's the serious expression for?"

"I've been thinking," she began, "About the whole _condom thing_…"

He raised a brow, but said nothing.

"Oh-kay," she laughed at his silence. "You can guess where this is going, can't you?"

"Why don't you tell me?"

"Simply put, Hotch, I can't go through this pregnancy thing again. I love Melissa and do not regret for one moment that she's here. But, we talked about this. We're done. You have a boy and a girl, a _rich man's family_. The perfect set up."

"I agree," he replied, "After what you went through I wouldn't dream of putting you through it again."

"Good," she nodded, "You're on board with that idea. So, the question is, what do we do about it?"

"Once you're done breastfeeding you can go back on the pill," he said, but her head was shaking a negative response before the sentence was out of his mouth.

"Hello? Did you forget that I was on the pill when I got pregnant? I can't trust it."

"Then, I guess I buy stock in Trojan," he shrugged, not really liking that choice either.

Again, she shook her head.

"Okay, you quite obviously have a solution, so go on…" he prompted.

"One of us needs to get fixed."

"Fixed," he repeated.

"Yes, someone's tubes need to be tied and or snipped."

"That's a drastic measure, don't you think?"

"No, I don't. We've made this choice. This is the logical progression."

"But, this involves surgery," he continued, not sure what concerned him more, the thought of Lisa having surgery or himself.

"Hotch, I'm sorry. If I wanted to spend the rest of my life making love with latex, I'd have stayed single," she insisted.

The tone of her voice told him that sterilization was a "done deal" for one of them. But the big question was which one. He supposed that the proper thing to do would be to volunteer to have the surgery himself. After all, he was truly happy with having two healthy children. But somewhere, on a deeper level, the same coward who sat in a bar getting drunk the night before his daughter's birth was throwing red flags and screaming, _"Oh no, no you don't! Nothing sharp goes anywhere near "the boys"!"_

He bit it back and said, "I can call the doctor in the morning."

Lisa laughed, "And the tone of your voice was something akin to a man on death row."

"You've been through so much, it's only fair that I should do this," he thoughtfully returned.

"But the overwhelming fear of knives near the family jewels is too strong to ignore, isn't it?" she knowingly said.

"Yes," he concluded. "But, that's an immature response."

"That's totally warranted," she allowed, kissing him. "Its okay. I've read the possible side effects of a vasectomy and where it is rare, it can affect performance. BUT…" she fixed him with a narrow eyed glare, "The worst part is, sperm may still be present for up to a year after the surgery. You'd have to get tested every 8 weeks."

He winced, "Tested? As in…"

"Yeah, as in taking a cup into the bathroom at the doctor's office and having a command performance with yourself."

"I don't know that I could do that," he admitted, then with a sly smile, "Would they let you help me?"

"Get your mind out of the gutter, this is serious!" she laughed, swatting him. "Anyway, you're safe. When I was at Dr. Ben's today, we talked about it. I'm booked to have it done in two weeks. My sister's going to come down from New York and spend the weekend and watch Melissa, just in case you get called out on a case."

"Lisa," he began, feeling guilty all over again. "I don't know that I want you to go through surgery…"

"Hotch," she countered, "It's a done deal. I want this done. I need to have it done. It's the only sure thing. Besides, its minor surgery, I go in a 6 am and I'll be home by lunch. I'll be a little sore for the weekend, but should be fine." She kissed him, "And we'll only have to wait two weeks for sex, which is the same for the vasectomy."

"You're sure about this?" he asked, feeling unsettled by her finality.

"If you can tell me that you really want to have another child, I'll reconsider."

He shook his head, "I don't want to tempt fate. I nearly lost you this time around. I might not be so lucky next time."

"And," she purred, taking him into her hands and caressing him, "Don't you want to be able to just relax and not worry about getting pregnant again?" She kissed him deeply, "Think about it, we can be spontaneous…like we used to be?"

"Your argument is very convincing," he said, swallowing hard, as she worked him with her hands. "But your methods of convincing me aren't exactly fair."

"You should know by now that I don't play fair when I want something," she smartly smiled.

As he opened his mouth to speak, the sound of Melissa's crying flooded the room.

"Guess we need to get used to this, huh?" she winked, kissing him. "We'll be playing Beat the Clock for a while. Think of how much easier it will be, if we don't need to worry about birth control." She slipped out of bed. "Let me go see what she needs."


	15. Bret Michaels Is Gonna Love You

**_"She's my ball and chain, my lock and key, and I'm liking it baby"_**

**_Bret Michaels and Poison_**

"Mommy!" three year old Melissa Hotchner screamed as she ran into the kitchen and hid behind her mother's legs.

"Melissa, why are you screaming?"

"Jack's mad at me!"

"Why?"

"I dunno!" she said, hiding her face in her mother's jeans.

"Aunt Lisa!" seven year old Jack Hotchner began, walking into the room. He wore a patented Hotchner scowl that could have easily been worn by his father.

"What'd she do, Jack?" Lisa said, holding back a smile.

"She took my iPod," he tiredly said. "And she erased the songs!"

"I didn't means do it," she said, her voice muffled by Lisa's leg.

"Yeah, but then she threw it in the trash," he protested, holding up the iPod with two fingers. "In the bathroom!"

"Yuck," Lisa agreed. "That is kinda gross." She held out her hand. "Why don't I wipe it down with a Lysol wipe first, okay?"

"I guess," he shrugged, watching as she walked to the counter and pulled a wipe out of the dispenser.

"Did she get your headphones, too?"

He shook his head, "They're in my pocket."

Lisa wiped off the iPod, then, after checking to make sure it worked properly, she handed it back to Jack. "There, it's clean. If you set it up on my desk, I'll load your music back in before I go out, okay?"

"Thanks," he smiled, taking his prized possession and holding it tight. He turned and glared at Melissa, "I told you don't take this, Melissa," he insisted. "I mean it."

"Sorry, Jack," Melissa returned, batting her big brown eyes at her brother. "I didn't meana do it."

Lisa watched as Jack softened and then smiled at her, "Just don't do it again, okay?"

She smiled back at him, "Kay."

"Come on, I'll read you Dr. Seuss," he said, taking her hand and leading her out of the kitchen.

Lisa shook her head with a chuckle as she watched them go.

"What's that look for?" Hotch asked, as he came in from the back deck.

"Your daughter has just manipulated your son," she announced.

"What?"

"Yes, your sweet little girl has totally manipulated her older brother," she laughed. "Seems Melissa took Jack's iPod, erased the music, and then tossed it in the bathroom trashcan."

"Gross," he winced.

"Yeah, well, Jack was pissed, so I wiped it down with Lysol and told him I'd reload his music."

"So what did Lissy do to manipulate him?"

"Oh, she batted her big brown eyes at him and told him she didn't mean to do it and he caved and said it was okay. He's reading her Dr. Seuss as we speak," she laughed. "I'm telling you, Hotch, she's got skills. If she can manipulate men at this age, I'm afraid of what she'll be able to do in another 15."

"She's three years old, Lisa," he countered, "She isn't capable of manipulation."

"And she's got you snowed," she said. "You are so whipped."

He raised a brow, "Excuse me?"

"You heard me, Hotchner," she smartly said, "You've let a three year old wrap you around her finger. And so has your son."

"Daddy!" Melissa said, running into the kitchen.

"Lissy," Hotch smiled, turning to catch his daughter as she leapt into his arms. "How's my girl?"

"Good," she smiled, "Jack readed me Dr Seuss."

"Melissa," Lisa began, "Tell your father what you did to Jack's iPod."

Melissa looked between her parents for a moment then focused on her father, "I threw it out."

"Why did you throw out his iPod?" Hotch asked.

"There was no music on it," she continued.

"Melissa, where did the music go?" Lisa asked.

"I dunno," she shrugged.

"Did you have anything to do with the music going away?" Hotch continued as his daughter began to pout.

"I didn't meana do it, Daddy," she said. "I just pushed some buttons and it went away."

"And why did you have Jack's iPod?"

"He left it on the table," she simply said. "I wanted to hear music."

"Dad," Jack said, walking into the room, "I left it on my nightstand while I went to the bathroom."

"Lissy," Hotch said, trying to be stern, "You took it from his nightstand?"

Melissa's eyes filled with tears, "I sorry, Daddy."

"Don't do it again, okay?"

"I won't," she sniffed.

"Okay," he said, "Now, give me a hug."

Melissa wrapped her arms around his neck and squeezed. "I love you Daddy."

"I love you too," he said, kissing her cheek, then setting her down.

"Come on, Mis," Jack said, taking her hand, "Let's go finish that book, okay?"

As the children left the room, Lisa snickered, "Whipped…totally and completely whipped."

"Are you quite done?" he laughed, slipping an arm around her waist and pulling her to him.

"For now," she returned, slipping her arms around his neck, "I do need to get into the shower and get ready. JJ and Dave will be here soon." She studied him for a moment, "So you two are just gonna sit here and wait for us to get home?"

"We may have a glass of scotch," he allowed, "And watch the Orioles game. But we've got the kids, so we're pretty much home bound."

"Just no work talk, okay?" she said, her tone soft, but her eyes conveying a definite message. "At least around Melissa."

"I promise," he kissed her, "You won't get any more calls from her pre school teacher asking why our daughter is talking about Oedipus syndrome and decapitation."

"How she can pronounce it amazes me," Lisa mused.

"She's brilliant, that's how," she simply said, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.

"And on that note, Mr. I'm-Whipped-By-A-Three-Year-Old," she said, kissing him again, "I'm going to go take a shower."

XXXXX

"Dave," JJ began, as they parked in the driveway of the Hotchner home. "I think you went a bit overboard at the toy store."

"What?" Rossi said, turning off the engine, "So I picked up a couple of things for the kids."

"A couple of things," she laughed, "You bought a PSP2 for Jack."

"Don't forget the games," he grinned, reaching in the backseat and grabbing a bag from Toys R Us.

"And the Barbie stuff for Melissa," she went on, as he popped the trunk. "Lisa's going to have a fit when she sees all the new clothes and shoes you got to go with the Barbies."

"Melissa is a little fashionista," Rossi shrugged. "She needs clothes for her dolls."

"Have you ever stepped on a Barbie shoe at four am?" JJ winced.

"No, but Hotch has mentioned it a couple of times and I don't picture it as being pleasant," he agreed, taking another, larger, Toys R Us bag from the trunk before slamming it shut.

They walked up to the front door and rang the door bell. A moment later, Hotch opened the door.

"JJ, Rossi," he warmly said, holding open the screen door, "Come on in."

"Hey Hotch," Rossi said, walking into the foyer.

"Hi, Hotch," JJ said, as Jack ran into the foyer.

"Uncle Dave!" Jack excitedly said, "Aunt JJ!"

"Hey Jack," Rossi grinned, "How are ya?"

"I'm good," he nodded, "How 'bout you?"

Clearly amused by the boy's adult reply Rossi nodded, "I'm good, too." Then, with a sly smile, he said, "I stopped by the Toys R Us today and picked up a couple of things."

"You did?" Jack asked, with a grin.

"I did," Rossi returned, holding out a bag. "And I threw a couple of things in the bag for you."

"For me?"

Rossi nodded, "Here you go."

Jack took the bag, opened it and looked in. With a squeal of delight, he reached in and pulled out the box containing the PSP2. "Dad! Look it!"

"Dave…." Hotch began, knowing that it was no use. "You shouldn't have."

"It was on sale," he shrugged.

"There's games, too!" Jack went on. "And batteries!"

"The batteries were Aunt JJ's idea," he admitted.

"Thank you!" Jack said, then looked up at Hotch, "Can I go play with it now?"

"Go," Hotch laughed, as Jack ran off. He turned to find that Rossi was holding another Toys R Us bag. "What else did you buy?"

"Something for Little Missy," he shrugged, "Now, where is she?" He walked into the house and called her, "Melissa? Your favorite Uncle is here."

"Unca Dave!!" Melissa shrieked from the top of the stairs.

"Go down slow, Lissy," Hotch cautioned.

"'kay," she said, sitting down on her behind and scooting down the stairs.

"Melissa," Hotch laughed, "Go down on your feet."

"This is better, Daddy," she dismissed as she reached the bottom, stood up and made a bee line for Rossi. "Hi Unca Dave!"

"Hi Melissa," he grinned, kneeling down next to the red headed child.

"Hi Melissa," JJ tried, holding back a laugh.

"Hi Aun JJ!" she said, waiving at her.

"I got you something, Melissa," Rossi said, opening the bag.

"What?"

"Well," he said, reaching into the bag, "I was in the store and I saw the prettiest Barbie with red hair. And I thought, who do I know that has red hair and would like this Barbie?"

"ME!" Melissa cheered, as he handed her the boxed doll.

"That's right! And then, I thought, well, Barbie has to have as many outfits as Melissa does so…" he held open the bag.

"CLOTHES!" Melissa announced.

"Here you go, Sweetheart," he said, handing her the bag.

"Tanks Unca Dave!"" she said, throwing her arms around his neck and giving him a sloppy kiss on the cheek. She broke away a moment later and scooped up her new toys. "Jack, look what I got!!" she called, running from the room.

"Spoiling my kids, Rossi?" Lisa asked, walking down the stairs in jeans and a zip front sweatshirt.

"You gotta problem with that, O'Reilly?" he returned with a laugh.

"O'Reilly Hotchner," she corrected, winking at Hotch. "Hey JJ! Are you ready for the show?"

"I'm more than ready!" JJ grinned, "Do you think I'm dressed okay?"

Lisa took in JJ's faded jeans and black button front shirt, "You look great! We'd better get front row seats because Bret Michaels is gonna love you!"

"Stop," JJ blushed.

"Yeah, really, stop," Rossi groused. "I didn't buy those tickets so my wife could get picked up by a musician."

"No, you bought those tickets because you lost the _**Deadliest Catch**_ bet," Lisa smartly said, then, winked at JJ.

"And I still say the Cornelia Marie is the better crab boat," Rossi insisted.

"Yes, but the Time Bandit brought in more crab," Lisa insisted. "The Hillstrands are the superior fishermen. Face it Rossi, you lost."

"Besides," Hotch returned, with a smug smile, "One look at this one and Bret's a gonner."

Rossi raised a brow and watched as Lisa stripped off the sweatshirt to reveal a vintage Poison baseball jersey. The neck had been cut into a v and it clung to her curves.

"Damn woman," JJ laughed, "You win."

"Just make sure you come home, when you're done with Bret, okay?" Hotch said, as Lisa slipped her arms around him.

"Aw… you know I will," she replied, kissing him. "With pictures."

**Author's Note: Thank you to Susan for her support, suggestions and ideas and for sharing my Deadliest Catch addiction (Yay, Time Bandit!)****.**

** Thank you to Annika, for her support and encouragement. **


	16. It Was JJ He Was After

"_**But if fate took you from me before I got to let you know  
You're the one thing in my life worth dying for"**_

_**Bret Michaels**_

David Rossi sat in the comfortable recliner, watching the Orioles game and sipping from a glass of scotch. He was relaxed and comfortable, well, as comfortable as he could be in someone else's house.

"I think Melissa's down for good this time," Hotch said, walking into the room.

Rossi looked up at him. "Does she always give you such a hard time?"

Sitting on the end of the sofa, Hotch shook his head, "Not usually." He picked up his glass and took a sip of scotch. "This only comes out when one of us is not here at bedtime. It's actually gotten better. There were no tears this time."

Rossi opened his mouth to speak, but was cut off by the sound of Hotch's cell phone.

"It's Lisa," Hotch said, reading the caller id before flipping open the phone. "Hey."

"Hey there," she said, and he could hear the excitement in her voice.

"How was the show?"

"You're not going to believe this," she laughed, "But we're going back stage."

"Why wouldn't I believe that? He'd have to be blind not to notice you," he smugly returned.

"Wasn't me, Hotch," she returned, "It was JJ he was after. Hey, just don't let Dave know that it was all about JJ, okay? We've got to go. I'll call you afterwards."

"Have fun," he said.

"I will," she replied, then, quietly said, "Love you," before breaking the connection.

"Don't tell me they're going back stage," Rossi said displeasure evident in his words.

"Relax, Dave," Hotch dismissed. "They are, but we've got nothing to worry about."

"Oh, really? They're going back stage with musicians…"

"Dave," Hotch laughed, "This is Lisa and JJ we're talking about."

"Exactly," he insisted. "Why didn't you try and stop this?"

"Not only couldn't I have stopped them," he returned, not effected by his friend's blustering. "I wouldn't want to. They're getting to meet a rock star. If this would have happened fifteen years ago, I might be worried. But neither one of them is even remotely interested in turning that rock star fantasy into reality."

"You sound pretty sure of that," Rossi sniffed. "You don't think Lisa would…"

"No, Dave," he firmly said. "I know she wouldn't. I don't see the fascination with the guy, but I'm sure it's making them both feel great that they were picked to go back stage. They're living out something that they both dreamed of years ago. And I promise you that no matter how tempting the offer may be, they will both say no thank you."

Rossi shook his head. "But why the hell would they need to go back there in the first place?"

"If the Yankees asked you to shoot the shit in the locker room after the game, wouldn't you go?"

"There's a big difference between the Yankees locker room and backstage at a rock concert…"

Hotch fixed him with a look that showed him just how weary he'd grown of the conversation. "Let it go, Dave. Do you really want JJ to think you don't trust her?"

"It's not her I worry about, it's Bret Michaels," he sniffed, then, "But, if you say I should trust her…"

XXXXX

An hour and a half later, JJ and Lisa walked out of the theatre. Big John escorted them out of the theater and waited while they got into Lisa's Spyder and started the engine. He even got on the phone and told both Hotch and Rossi that JJ and Lisa turned them down flat.

"Oh, God," Lisa laughed, as she drove out of the parking lot. "Was that not a total riot?"

"I thought Dave was going to have a stroke when he first got on the phone," JJ laughed with her.

"I honestly didn't think this night could get any better," Lisa shook her head, "But that was the perfect ending."

With an evil grin, JJ replied, "No, the perfect ending is going to happen when we get home and I make David Rossi pay for not trusting me."

"You go girl, make him grovel."

"I will," she went on, "He was actually jealous! As if he had anything to worry about."

"I don't know, JJ, Bret seemed to think you were hot."

JJ rolled her eyes, "Bret wanted in my pants, Lisa. That's all. It would have been one night and he would have been gone. Like I'd throw away what I have for that."

"True."

"Besides, I'm ovulating and I'll be damned if I'm going to waste ovulation night on a one night stand,' she concluded, sending Lisa into laughter. "What?" JJ laughed with her, "Not all of us are lucky enough to conceive without even trying."

"Far be it from me to get in the way of your reproductive cycle," Lisa laughed, spotting flashing red lights up ahead, she slowed down. "Oh, shit…"

"Looks like the road is closed," JJ said.

"Looks like it," Lisa nodded, "And they're directing us off of Route 50."

"Do you know any other way to get home?"

"Oh hell yeah," Lisa nodded, driving down the off ramp, "We'll just get on Route 7, take it to Columbia Pike, past Lake Bancroft, then up Little River and right around back into my development. It will only take another…20 minutes? It's a shame it's dark out, it's a pretty ride."

"Scenic?"

"It's no Little Creek, but it's definitely pretty," she mused. "I promise you'll be home in plenty of time to conceive."

"Very funny," JJ laughed. "Looks like we're not the only displaced person, the guy in that Bronco's been following us the whole way down 50."

"Looks like my neighbor's kid's car," Lisa advised. "Only this one actually runs. Okay, now, if we turn off here, we get onto Columbia Pike and…to your right, is Lake Bancroft. Of course, you can't really see it through the trees, but it's there."

"Been there before?"

"We looked at a house on the banks," she explained, "It was cute, but I wasn't really comfortable with Jack playing that close to the lake."

"I think about that all the time," JJ admitted. "With the reservoir right off of the back yard…."

"You can always fence in part of the yard," she allowed, looking into the rearview mirror. "This idiot is getting a bit close…"

"Figures, a guy in a big truck trying to run over a little sports car," JJ agreed.

"Yeah, well…not this little sports car," Lisa said, trailing off as the Bronco tapped her back bumper. "Oh, he did not just do that."

"What are you going to do?"

"I'm not sure, but I'm not pulling over," she hissed, as the Bronco tried to pull up around her left side, "What the hell is he doing now?"

"Running us off the road?" JJ asked, surprised at how calm she was.

"We'll see about that," Lisa said, slowing down to let the Bronco pass her. "There…"

Without warning, the Bronco pulled up ahead of them and slammed on his brakes.

"Oh, shit," Lisa said, "Hold on…" She jammed on her brakes and jerked the wheel to the right, trying to go around the Bronco.

The Bronco moved to the right, blocking her way and forcing the Spyder off the road. Despite the fact that Lisa had removed her foot from the accelerator, the car was still moving at a speed of 45 mph, and went down the grass embankment, continuing to travel until it hit a very large oak tree.

XXXXX

JJ was struck by the sudden silence and the white material of the air bag that blocked her vision. She beat the material out of her line of site and took a moment to assess her physical state. She knew she had some bumps and bruises and the damn seatbelt was going to leave on hell of a nasty welt on her shoulder, but other than that, she thought she was fine.

"Lisa?" she asked, turning to look at her friend.

Lisa, it seemed didn't fare as well. She couldn't see very well in the dark, but she could see that Lisa was bleeding.

"Lisa?" she repeated.

"Wha?" Lisa replied, her voice groggy, "You okay?"

"I'm fine, what about you?"

"I'm not sure," she said, "I think my nose is broken…"

"We should call 9-1-1," JJ decided, looking for her purse, "Where's my purse?" She unhooked her seatbelt and bent foreword to look for her purse.

"JJ," Lisa said, causing her to look up to find a man's hand holding a gun coming through Lisa's window.

XXXXX

"Who are you?" Lisa asked, willing her mind to stay clear. "What do you want?"

"I want," the male voice said, "Jennifer Jareau."

"You can't have her," Lisa replied, grabbing JJ's hand and holding it tightly.

"Like you could stop me," the male voice laughed. "Jennifer, you're coming with me."

"I'm not leaving Lisa," she protested, squeezing her friend's hand. "She's injured, she needs medical treatment."

"She'll find her way to the hospital," the voice went on, "Now; I need you to slowly get out of the car. Just don't try anything stupid or I'll shoot her."

JJ sat still for a moment, trying to decide what to do; the sound of the gun's safety being removed caused her to jump.

"She's not getting out of the car," Lisa went on, wondering if her voice sounded as slurred to the guy with the gun as it did to her. "Put down the gun and walk away."

"Bitch, who the hell do you think you are?" the man laughed.

"Supervisory Special Agent Lisa Hotchner," she recited, reaching for her seatbelt. As her hand grasped the release, she felt a stabbing pain through her arm and decided that she probably broke something. Willing herself not to cry out, she looked at JJ, hoping her friend would understand and unhook her seatbelt.

JJ did and quickly undid the belt, while speaking to the man, "Look, I'm not sure what you want with me, but if you take Lisa for medical treatment, I'll go wherever you want."

"The hell you will," Lisa spat, feeling her Blackberry under her foot and wondering how she could reach it without drawing his attention. "She's not going with you."

"I've had just about enough of this," he man said, grabbing Lisa by the hair. "You need to just shut up." He pointed the gun at her forehead, "Now, I'm taking her with me and you're not invited." He placed his finger on the trigger.

"Don't!" JJ screamed, "Don't. What if I go with you and once we're far enough down the road, we can call 9-1-1? I promise, I will go with you, but she needs help."

"Stop," Lisa hissed, "Stop negotiating with him…"

"That's it…" the man said, replacing the safety. "I ain't gonna waste a bullet on you."

Out of the corner of her eye, Lisa watched as he raised the gun, then, brought it back down along the side of her head. She felt a blinding pain and then, nothing at all as darkness overtook her.


	17. He Took Her, Hotch

_**Love and pain and sacrifice,  
Flesh and blood all the songs of life  
You said I will not go quietly in the night**_

_**Bret Michaels**_

Aaron Hotchner had trained himself to "turn off" his emotions. It was a necessity of his job. It had become second nature for him to shut down when faced with details and situations that any normal person would find horrific. Tonight, however, the emotions were hard to control. Tonight the details and situation hit far too close to home.

Lisa and JJ were nearly two hours late, a fact that Dave reminded him of countless times. Neither Lisa nor JJ had answered their cell phones despite numerous attempts to reach them. Hotch did his best to remain calm. He didn't think Dave tried at all.

By the time that they were an hour late, Dave had called Garcia, waking her and "asking" her to come sit with the kids while they went out and looked for the girls. Of course, Dave didn't mention this to him until Garcia showed up at the front door.

Shortly after her arrival, the house phone rang. Rossi nearly knocked him out of the way to answer it, but after a brief conversation, he held the phone out to Hotch, announcing, with great frustration, that the caller stated that they would only speak to him.

Hotch took the receiver and placed it to his ear, "This is Aaron Hotchner," he said, his tone pure business.

"Mr. Hotchner, this is Officer Tad Rowley from the Fairfax County Police Department. Do you know a Lisa Hotchner?"

Fighting back the panic that hovered close to the surface, he calmly said, "Yes, she's my wife. Is there some sort of problem?"

"Sir, Mrs. Hotchner is in the ER at Fairfax Hospital. Se was involved in a one car accident on Columbia Pike, near Lake Bancroft."

"What happened? Is she alright?" he asked, amazed at the calmness in his own voice.

"We're not quite sure what happened, Sir. Her care was found off the road. Mrs. Hotchner is unconscious, so we haven't been able to obtain any details from her."

"I'll be there in 15 minutes," he said, hanging up the phone and turning to find the anxious faces of Rossi and Garcia. "There was an accident," he began, walking to the foyer table and picking up his wallet and keys.

"Did he say anything about Jennifer? Is she okay?" Rossi demanded.

"He didn't say," he flatly returned, turning his eyes to Garcia, "Penelope, will you be okay with Jack and Melissa?"

She nodded, concern written on her features, but her voice still sounding positive. "Go, we'll be fine. Just please keep in touch."

"Thank you," he sincerely said, then to Rossi, "You coming?"

XXXXX

Hotch didn't remember the drive to the hospital any more than he remember parking the car and walking into the hospital. Once they entered the busy ER, his senses kicked in and he became cognizant of every detail of his surroundings. He walked directly to the registration desk and produced his id before speaking.

"My name is Aaron Hotchner and my wife was just brought in by Fairfax PD."

While she scanned his id, the older woman at the desk said, "Yes, Mr.…Agent Hotchner, let me go get Officer Rowley." With that, she bustled off.

A moment later, a softly accented male voice from behind him called his name, "Agent Hotchner."

Hotch turned to find a Fairfax Police officer standing with his uniform hat in his hands. A quick survey told him the man was about his age and the thick gold band on his left hand said that this man, too, was married.

"Officer Rowley," Hotch said, shaking the officer's hand, "This is my colleague, David Rossi."

"Mr. Rossi," Rowley said, offering his hand.

"My wife, Jennifer," Rossi began, not wasting time with pleasantries, "What about her?"

"Mr. Hotchner," began another male voice from Hotch's left. Pulling his attention from Rossi and Officer Rowley, he turned to find an older man in a lab coat.

"I'm Dr. Fager," the man began, "I've been treating your wife since she was brought in."

"How is she?" he asked, noticing that Officer Rowley was escorting Rossi into a small office and closing the door.

"She's still unconscious," Dr. Fager replied.

"What happened?"

"She was found in her vehicle, which had somehow run off the road and came to rest against a tree. Officer Rowley, I'm sure, can provide you with more details, but I can tell you that no drugs were present and her blood alcohol level was only .04."

Hotch nodded, which encouraged Fager to continue.

"Mrs. Hotchner has sustained a broken nose, two fractured ribs and a torn ligament in her right calf, which I would guess happened when she tried to jam on the brakes," he paused, "What concerns me most is the fact that she's still unconscious. The CT scan didn't reveal anything, but she more than likely has a concussion."

As he digested this information, Officer Rowley returned and said, "Before you go into see your wife, I'd like to speak to you."

Once Dr. Fager excused himself to check on another patient, Rowley turned to Hotch.

"Agent Hotchner," he began, in a calm, quiet tone, that Hotch knew was meant to take the edge off of the gruesome details to come. He'd used that tone himself countless times. "Mrs. Hotchner was found in the driver's seat, with the seat belt unbuckled. Both airbags were deployed,"

"She wasn't alone," he interrupted, thinking of JJ.

"She was alone when she was found, Sir," he went on. "Another officer is speaking with Agent Rossi right now. We'll be searching for Ms. Jareau."

Hotch closed his eyes for a moment, trying to maintain the tenuous control he held on his emotions.

"Agent Hotchner," Officer Rowley said, causing him to open his eyes, "Are you okay, Sir?"

"I'm fine, go on," he encouraged, knowing there was more.

"I know this is difficult, but there are a few questions I need to ask you."

"Go on."

"Mrs. Hotchner and Ms. Jareau are also Federal Agents, correct?"

"Yes."

"And they get along with each other? No fights, no animosity?"

"No, nothing," he replied, recognizing the standard questions that he'd asked so many times.

"When Mrs. Hotchner was brought in," he began, hesitantly, "A full exam was done…"

He knew where this was going and where he appreciated the fact that Rowley was trying to cushion the blow, he was in no mood. "Just say it, Officer Rowley."

"There were traces of semen present on her underwear and in the vaginal canal and it appeared that there was recent penetration…"

Hotch's mind flashed back to that afternoon. While Jack sat in the living room, engrossed in the first Harry Potter novel and Melissa napped, he stole into the bathroom while Lisa was preparing for her shower. They'd made love, putting the vanity to uses he was sure weren't in the building specs. It was quick, it was hot, and when they were done, she promised him a repeat performance after the concert.

Officer Rowley's voice pulled him from his pleasant memory. "Her clothing wasn't disturbed…"

"We'd…had sex," Hotch said, realizing how flat and lifeless those words were compared to what actually happened. "This afternoon. You'll want a DNA sample."

Officer Rowley nodded, "I'll send someone in to take a sample. Go on…go back and see her."

After thanking Rowley, Hotch walked back into the ER. As he did, he stole a glance over to where Rossi was having a very animated discussion with three Fairfax officers. He knew he should go over and help, he just wasn't sure who needed the help more, Rossi or the Fairfax officers. Instead, he walked away and stopped in front of the drawn curtain of ER cubicle 4.

Slipping in past the curtain, he looked over at the gurney, where Lisa lay. She was still, too still. Her face was bruised, and the rest of her skin was pale. AS he approached her, her eyes fluttered open slowly. Alarm took over her features as she assessed her situation.

"Lisa," he began, pulling her attention to him.

"What happened?" she asked around swollen lips.

"You know how it works," he gently said, "You have to tell me."

XXXXX

Lisa closed her eyes, willing her mind to focus. Slowly, the memories came back. She remembered the gun and the disembodied male voice that told her he was taking JJ. Her eyes flew open wide. "JJ!" she said, sitting up. "Is she here?"

"No," he simply said.

"Damnit!" she spat, fighting the nausea and dizziness. "He took her, Hotch."

"Who took her, Lisa?" he tried.

"I don't know!" she cried, swinging her legs off of the bed and planting her feet on the cold tile floor.

"Lisa, lay down," Hotch gently said.

"No," she said, standing up. It lasted only a second before the room began to pitch and Lisa felt herself crumbling. As her knees gave way, she felt his arms catch her, easing her back onto the bed. She looked up at her husband, willing him to help her. "Hotch," she said, eyes filling with tears. "He's got her."

"Lisa, there's nothing you can do for her right now," he soothed.

"But…" she protested, suddenly feeling very tired and allowing herself to collapse back onto the gurney.

He leaned close and softly kissed her forehead, then quietly spoke.

"Lisa, you're injured. You need to relax," his tone was soft, calming. "I know you want to help JJ, but you need to let the doctors take care of you first."

"But…" she said, as a sob worked itself out. "I let him take her…" she choked, as another sob followed the first, opening the flood gates to more. She couldn't stop herself, although she tried. The tears and frustration poured out in big whopping sobs.

He held her while she cried, gently stroking her back, and softly telling her how much he loved her and was grateful that she was in his arms.

Once she regained control of her emotions, she lay back onto the pillows and closed her eyes.

XXXXX

Hotch sat down on the stool next to the gurney. He was fighting his own internal battle. Lisa was safe, JJ was missing. He knew he should be gathering up the BAU and starting to work up the case, but something held him where he was. If only for a moment or two more, he was going to sit with his wife and thank God that she was okay.

He looked over to find her laying with her eyes closed tightly, her breathing was labored.

"Lisa?" he asked his voice quiet.

"My head and my chest hurt," she mumbled.

"Let me get the doctor," he said, standing.

As he turned to leave the stall, the curtain opened and Rossi walked in.

"Is she awake?" he asked, with an expression that Hotch recognized as desperation.

"Yes, she is," he calmly said, "But…"

With a head full of steam, Rossi set his sites on Lisa and walked to the bed. Sitting on the stool that Hotch had just recently abandoned, he spoke. "Lisa," he began his voice soft. "I need you to wake up and talk to me."

Lisa opened her eyes slowly.

"That's it, Little Girl," he coaxed, "Now, I need you to tell me what happened."

"Dave," Hotch cautioned, taking a step closer to Lisa.

"Hotch, JJ is missing," Rossi went on, his tone even but strained. "Anything Lisa can tell us could help." HE turned back to Lisa, "Come on, Little Girl, tell me what happened."

"A black Bronco followed us," she said, slowly, as Hotch stepped up next to her and took her hand.

"Followed you where?"

"Detour off of Route 50…to Route 7…" she said, her breathing becoming more labored. "To Columbia…near Lake Bancroft, he tapped my bumper." She closed her eyes.

"Then what?" Rossi prompted. When she didn't respond right away, his tone became more strained, "Lisa? Come on, stay with me."

"He tried to run us off the road," she recalled, clutching Hotch's hand. "I slowed down…let him pass me… then he swerved…" Her breathing grew ragged. "I tried to…avoid him…and we hit the tree."

"What happened then?"

"A gun…in the window. He said…he wanted her…"

"What exactly did he say?"

"I want Jennifer Jareau," she said, as each breath began to produce a wheezing sound. "She tried to…negotiate with him…"

"And then he took her?"

She shook her head, "No…I…wouldn't let him. I…tried to fight…and he hit me…with the gun." The tears began to flow again. "Then…I woke up here. I…I can't remember…anything…else…."

Hotch squeezed her hand, "Just try to breathe slowly, Lisa. Everything's okay."

"Everything is not okay, Hotch," Rossi hissed. "JJ is missing and Lisa was the only person to see her captor."

"I didn't see him!" she cried, "I saw…a gun…heard his voice…"

"Think Lisa," he insisted, his tone desperate. "You must've seen his face."

"I didn't!" she gasped, and then began to wheeze in earnest.

"Lisa," Hotch said, alarm taking over, "Take deep breaths."

"I…can't…"

"Lisa, what's going on?" Dr. Fager said, walking into the cubicle. He fixed Hotch and Rossi with pointed looks. "She has two fractured ribs and a concussion. She is in no physical shape for an interrogation. Now, if you'll both step out, I'll call you when we've calmed her down."

Rossi stormed out of the ER and into the parking lot, with Hotch hot on his heels.

"Just what the fuck did you think you were doing in there?" he demanded.

Rossi spun on him, "JJ is missing and Lisa was the last one to see her…"

"I am aware of that, Dave," he hissed. "But you seem to have forgotten that Lisa is a victim, not a suspect."

"If she could remember one thing…just one..."

"She can't," he returned, "She can't remember a fucking thing and you badgering her isn't going to change that."

"If I could just push her to recall one detail, any detail ... it might be what we need to find Jennifer. She's out there with a madman, Hotch. God knows what he's doing to her."

"Don't you think I realize that?"

"I'm starting to wonder," he said, under his breath.

Hotch stopped, blood freezing in his veins. His eyes narrowed and his voice was a venomous hiss. "Don't think for a minute that I forgot about JJ, Dave. Fairfax PD is working on the case and I am sure that by now, Garcia has alerted the rest of the team and that they are on their way here."

"But we aren't doing anything," Rossi insisted.

"WE shouldn't be doing anything," he returned, "You're too close to the case, you aren't objective."

"I'm objective."

"The hell you are," Hotch snapped. "You're as far from objective as I am right now and that's pretty fucking far."

Rossi ran his hands over his face, then turned to face his friend, "I can't lose her, Hotch. I can't. Don't you understand, that woman is my life."

"I understand," he returned, his voice a mixture of compassion and the anger that he still felt. "But you need to understand this, I will not allow you to attack Lisa again."

"I'm sorry," he sincerely said, "I was out of hand…"

"You were," he firmly said, "Look, I know how frustrated you are. But damnit, Dave, Lisa is upset enough. She feels as if this is her fault and shortly before you came in she tried to get out of bed and go find JJ herself..."

"She did?" he asked.

"Of course she did," he said, looking at his old friend as if he'd lost his mind. "Would you expect anything less of her?"

"I know, I know," he said, his voice strained with emotion.

Taking pity on his friend, Hotch placed his hand on Rossi's shoulder. "Come on. Let's go call in the rest of the team."

"I'll call the team," Rossi said, patting Hotch on the back, "You go check on Lisa."


	18. We Could Be Real Good Together

_**I'll be your sugar daddy,  
I'll be your diamond rings.  
You'll be my dirty secret,  
You'll be my sexual thing.**_

_**Bret Michaels**_

Jennifer Jareau woke with a start. Instantly aware that she was not in her own bed, she took in her surroundings. She was in a hotel room, and not a nice one at that. This was even below the lower standards she'd learned to expect when traveling to random small towns with the BAU.

Sitting up, she discovered that she was chained to the wooden headboard by her left wrist. Panic took over and she tried to jerk the chain loose. It didn't budge, but it left a nice welt on her wrist.

She stopped fighting with the chain and forced herself to remember the night's events and how she came to be there. The man with the gun had forced her at gunpoint to leave Lisa unconscious and wounded behind the wheel of her car. She got a good look at him, as he dragged her out of the car and recognized him instantly.

He'd been at the concert, sitting behind them. He seemed friendly at first. After introducing himself as Evan, he talked and laughed with them. But when Lisa excused herself to go to the ladies room, he started hitting on her. She'd politely explained to him that she was married, even went as far as flashing Mama Rossi's diamond which sat on her left hand, but the guy was undeterred.

His overtones got worse as the evening went on and finally, somewhere between the last set and the finale, Lisa took him aside and told him, in no uncertain terms, that JJ's husband was a very powerful man and that it would take only one telephone call from Lisa to make him disappear. Evan seemed to understand the meaning of her statement and backed off.

Or so she thought. He must have waited for them to leave the theatre and followed them. He ran Lisa's car off the road and forced JJ to leave with him at gun point. She remembered every detail of what happened in the car including the sick thud made by the large gun hitting the side of Lisa's head.

She watched her friend slump against the steering wheel and as she went to help her, Evan, who must have run around to her side of the car, stopped her by clamping a meaty hand on her arm. With his gun pressed against her temple, he jerked open the car door and yanked her out.

She fought him, wanting to get away, wanting to help Lisa. He overpowered her easily, tying her hands behind her using a large zip tie, then carrying her to the Bronco. He deposited her in the back seat and when he continued to fight him, he zip tied her ankles as well. She tried to writhe away and in the process hit her head hard on the car door, forcing herself into blackness.

She was angry at herself for hitting her head. She should have been awake to pay attention to the drive, to try to figure out where she was. She could be anywhere and thanks to her own stupidity; she had no idea of where she was or what was happening except that she was sitting in some cheap, old, run down, hotel room, waiting to see what Evan had in store for her.

XXXXX

"Okay, Sir," Garcia said, her image popping up on the lap top, "I've gotten access to the theatre's camera system and I'm searching tonight's tapes."

"See if you can find Lisa and JJ, Baby Girl," Morgan said, crowding around the table where Reid's lap top rested.

"I will," she nodded. "By the way, the kids are still sleeping."

"Thank you," Hotch quietly said, from across the break room that they'd turned into a makeshift BAU.

"Not a problem, Sir," she smiled.

"Have you found anything?" Rossi asked, desperation dripping from his voice.

"There they are!" Garcia nearly screamed, then remembered that the kids were sleeping in rooms on either side of the Lisa's office. "Ooops…anyway, here they are…"

Garcia's image was replaced by images of the inside of the bar. "This was before the concert."

"It looks like they're talking to someone," Prentiss said, "Can you magnify that?"

"I'm going to try," Garcia responded; as the picture zoomed in and they could just about make out the person speaking to Lisa and JJ.

"I thought mullets went out in the 80's," Morgan dryly commented.

"It is a Poison concert," Prentiss allowed, "Single guys who are still into Poison really haven't moved out of the mullet era."

"Either that, or they're there for the women," Reid allowed. "Take a look at the crowd. It's 95% female."

"Where's Lisa going? Why is she leaving JJ with this guy?" Rossi demanded.

"It appears," Garcia said, as an image of Lisa walking into the Ladies Room popped up on the screen, "That she had to go to the ladies room, Sir."

"Relax Dave," Hotch said, "We know that they were together up until after the accident."

"What if he said something to her…?"

"Dave," Hotch sharply said, drawing a glare from his friend, "If he had threatened her, they would not still be laughing."

Rossi turned back to the screen, watching as Lisa returned and joined in the conversation. The house lights dimmed and they could no longer see anyone in the crowd.

"I'll fast forward until the end of the concert," Garcia's voice said, as the video began to fast forward. Once the house lights came on, she returned it to regular play speed. "Okay, this must be between the concert and the encore…"

"How'd you know there was an encore?" Reid asked.

"Lisa had been texting me and sending me pictures all night," she admitted.

"Wait, look!" Rossi excitedly said, pointing at the screen, "There…Garcia blow that up again."

The screen filled with the image of Lisa, JJ, and the man with the mullet. Obviously, things had taken a turn for the worst. Lisa had pulled the man aside and from her animated mannerisms, she wasn't sharing happy memories of the concert.

Rossi looked up at Hotch, "Why didn't Lisa mention this?"

"She probably didn't remember," Hotch shrugged.

"Sir," Garcia began, her picture filling the screen again, "Melissa woke up."

"Damn," Hotch muttered, "Where is she?"

"Right here," she said, lifting Melissa onto her lap, so that she was on the screen as well. "See, Melissa? There's Daddy."

"Daddy," Melissa smiled, "Why you on TV?"

"I'm at work. Lissy," He said, feeling the eyes of his team upon him.

"Mommy's still out with Aun JJ?"

"Yes, she is," he went on. "I need you to be a big girl and go back to bed for Aunt Pen, okay?"

"Wanna wait for you," she pouted.

"Sweetheart, I need you to go back to bed," he went on, his tone soothing, "I might be a while."

"I wanna wait for you," she insisted.

"Hey, Melissa," Reid said, brightly. "If you go back to bed, I promise I'll come over and do some magic for you."

Melissa thought this through, then slowly said, "Kay…I go back to bed. Bye Daddy. Bye Spencer."

"Bye Melissa," Reid smiled.

"Good night, Lissy," Hotch echoed.

"Love you Daddy," she said, hopping down from Garcia's lap.

"Me too," he returned, watching as she walked out of camera range.

"Let me get her settled and we'll review the film. Back in two seconds…"Garcia said, walking away.

Hotch released the breath he realized he'd been holding and said, "Thank you, Reid. You know she will remember that you promised her magic tricks."

"I know," Reid returned with a smile, "I've worked up a couple of simple ones that I can teach Jack, too."

Hotch gave him a grateful smile.

"I'm back," Garcia said, as the camera footage began to roll again. "Okay…here's everyone driving off right after the show….and there's Lisa's car - still in the lot."

"And there's a black Bronco," Morgan announced. "Baby Girl, can you see the plate?"

"Not from this angle. Let me check to see if he drives around…" she said, fast forwarding the film, "Ah, there he goes, he's pulling out of the spot and coming…right around…" she froze the frame, "GOT IT! Let me run it."

"Agent Hotchner," began a voice from the doorway, causing Hotch to turn quickly. "Mrs. Hotchner is asking to see you?"

"Go," Rossi said, "She might have something."

Hotch nodded and walked out of the room.

XXXXX

Lisa lay on the gurney, wishing she could just get up and go home. She was still hooked up to monitors and machines and they told her that she would be moving to a regular room for the night. As she lay, fighting the sedatives they gave her after Rossi's interrogation, memories of the night flooded back to her.

She hit the call bell and asked the nurse to summon her husband before the memories were swallowed by the sedatives. Of course, that interchange seemed like an eternity ago and now she lay, replaying things over in her mind to keep them from disappearing.

The curtain parted and Hotch walked into the room. Lisa assumed that she looked like shit because in the moment before he forced on a smile, concern was written on his face.

"I remembered something," she rasped, wishing her voice was louder.

"What did you remember?" he asked, sitting on the stool. He took her hand and kissed it softly.

"There was this guy," she said, her speech labored, "He hit on JJ. I had to tell him to back off."

"We found him on the security footage, watched the whole thing happen. Do you remember his name?"

"Evan," she said, "Didn't get a last name. Should've asked." She closed her eyes a moment, "Who's with the kids?"

"Garcia," he explained, "She's working from your office."

With a groggy smile, Lisa asked, "Still say the webcam was a dumb idea?"

"No," he smiled at her, "It wasn't."

Rossi walked into the cubicle. "We've got a name and address!"

"Evan," Lisa said, clutching Hotch's hand.

"Evan Brandeis," Rossi nodded, "Morgan and Prentiss are heading to his house, but I doubt he'd be stupid enough to take her there."

"Shangri La Motel," Lisa mumbled, fighting to keep her eyes open.

"What was that, Little Girl?" Rossi asked.

"She said Shangri La Motel," Hotch repeated, then, in a gentle tone, "Lisa, what about the Shangri La Motel?"

"He offered….to take her there," she said, focusing her eyes on him, "Said it was…romantic."

"Did he say where it was?"

"Fort Myer…" she mumbled, then, looked at him, "Go get her…"

"We're there," Rossi said, whipping out his cell phone as he ran from the cubicle.

Lisa expected Hotch to let go of her hand and follow Rossi from the room, but he stood pat.

"You're not going?" she asked.

He shook his head,

"You…lead the team…" she insisted.

"They are capable of getting her without me."

She shook her head, narrowing her eyes, "I can't be there…you need to be. Go."

He bent and kissed her forehead. "I'll be back."

XXXXX

Hearing the door open, JJ looked up from the television to find the man she knew as Evan walking in. He carried a bag of food from Beltway Burgers.

"I brought us dinner," he smiled. "Sit up, Jenny. I got you a double cheese burger."

JJ's stomach flipped at the thought of food, but she played along with him. "Thank you, Evan."

"And after you eat," he went on, with a smile, "We'll decide where we're going next."

"Where we're going next?"

He nodded, tracing his hand along the side of her face, "I want to take you somewhere special…so we can be together. I knew the minute I saw you that you were something special…"

"Thank you," she gently said, repulsed by his touch, but refusing to show it. "But I'm married. Remember? I told you earlier."

"Yes, you did," he frowned, "But he can't be much of a husband if he let you go out alone like that. When you're my wife, we'll do everything together."

"Evan, we just met, isn't it kind of soon to be talking about marriage?" she tried.

"But I know you, Jennifer," he said, caressing her cheek. "I've seen you on TV and I always thought that there was something special about you, that we could be real good together. And when I saw you tonight and you talked to me, I knew that it was meant to be. You'll see." He leaned forward and kissed her on the lips. "Now, eat your burger and we'll make our plans."


	19. We Should Be Used To This By Now

_**  
I didn't mean to hurt you baby  
Wouldn't do that to you**_

_**Bret Michaels**_

JJ forced herself to eat some of the burger that Evan had given her. He was watching her while he ate his own meal, encouraging her to eat more. As she ate her burger, she looked over at the chain that tethered her to the bed.

"Evan," she began, her tone sweet and light, "This chain's awfully uncomfortable. Think you could take it off?"

Evan shook his head, and then around a mouthful of burger said, "Sorry, Jenny. I'm not ready to trust you yet. See, I think you're not quite ready to give me your heart. I understand that, you just met me. But, until I know that you're ready to be mine and mine only, that chain stays."

JJ nodded, "What about a change of clothes? A shower?"

"We'll take car of that when we get to our new home," he smiled.

"Where will that be?"

"Don't you worry about that, Jenny," he smiled. "I know you'll like it. You don't have to worry about a thing any more. I'm gonna take care of you from now on."

JJ eyed him warily, hoping that she could find a way out of this hotel room and away from Evan before he took her to "their new home."

XXXXX

The team assembled with the Fort Meyer Police Department in the back parking lot of the Shangri La Motel. After spotting Evan's Bronco in front of room 17, they confirmed with the desk clerk that the room was occupied by a Mr. and Mrs. Evan Brandeis. Hotch watched as Rossi's eyes narrowed at the clerk's announcement, knowing full well that if Brandeis were standing in front of them, Rossi would have torn the man in two.

Knowing that he still might do that, if given the chance, Hotch made a mental note to keep Rossi out of striking distance of Brandeis. He watched his old friend and mentor as he strapped on his Kevlar vest, noting the set of his jaw, the glint in his eye. Yes, David Rossi would kill the man who dared to take his woman and Aaron Hotchner was not going to give him that chance. Not at the cost of his career.

"Morgan, Prentiss, you take the back with the men from Fort Meyer," Hotch began, "Reid, you hang back here. Dave, you and I will go in the front. We go on my count only."

"Let's go," Rossi said, as the group dismantled.

"Hold on, Dave," Hotch said, placing a hand on his arm.

"Hotch…" he protested, but the look on the younger man's face stopped him.

"I'm letting you follow me in the front so that you can be there for JJ," he said, his voice quiet, yet firm, "You _**will not**_ have anything to do with Brandeis. You will not look at him, you will not speak to him, and you will not, under any circumstances point your weapon at him, do you understand?"

"Hotch," he protested, "I am not a child…"

"No, you're not. You're the man whose wife Evan Brandeis is holding hostage."

"And you're the man who's wife he ran off the road," Rossi reminded.

"True, but I've seen my wife and I have come to peace with her condition. You have not and you're very volatile right now. So, either you go in my way or you don't go at all."

"I hate it when you pull rank on me," Rossi gruffly replied, with a glare that told Hotch his old friend would need to be watched carefully during the raid on the hotel room.

"And I do it so that I can continue to supervise you and not defend you in a murder trial," he simply said, "Let's go."

After alerting the rest of the group, they walked to the door of the hotel room. Rossi banged on the door and Hotch, in his best, most authoritative voice said, "Evan Brandeis, this is the FBI. Open the door and release Agent Jareau."

XXXXX

"Shit!" Brandeis spat, sweeping his arm across the bed, sending burgers and fries flying across the room. "The F-B-fucking-I?"

"Evan," JJ tried, "I am a Federal Agent…"

There was another bang at the door and again, Hotch's voice, "Brandeis, open the door and release Agent Jareau."

Brandeis narrowed his eyes, "That won't happen," he called back. "Jenny is mine!"

XXXXX

"Hotch…" Rossi seethed, drawing a shake of the head from his former protégé.

"You've got no where to go, Brandeis. Release her and come out peacefully," Hotch instructed.

XXXXX

"Evan," JJ rationalized, "Please. They're serious. I don't want to see you hurt."

Brandeis paced the small room, trying to decide what to do. He stopped and looked at her. "Jenny," he began, "You know I love you, right?"

JJ noticed that his actions were becoming more and more manic and decided to play along with him, "I know you do."

"And you trust me to make the right decisions for us, right?"

"I know you have our best interest in mind," she replied, watching as he walked to his duffle bag and produced his gun. "Evan, what do you plan on doing?"

"I look at it this way," he said, "They're gonna break down the door, right?"

She shrugged.

"Come on, Jenny," he said, waving the gun at her, "They're gonna break it down if I don't open it up."

"Okay, yes, they will," she agreed.

"Well, when they do," he said, caressing her cheek, "They'll be surprised to watch us both prove how much we love each other."

"And how are we going to prove it?" she slowly asked as her mind slowly wrapped around Brandeis' plans for them both.

"Simple," he smiled, "Once they break that door down, we'll never be able to be together…at least not in this life time…"

"Evan…" she said, fear gripping her heart, "Please, that's not the way to do this. I promise, I'll make sure we're together."

"I'd like to believe you, Jenny…" he said, "But…"

Before he could finish his thought, the front and back doors of the room burst open. JJ watched, numb and unable to move, as familiar faces, guns drawn, filled the room. She watched as Hotch and Morgan both descended upon a stunned Brandeis at the same time. Hotch taking his weapon while Morgan yanked his arms back and secured them with a zip tie.

She felt familiar arms surround her and then heard David's voice, "its okay, Bella. We've got you."

"David," she blinked, willing her mind to comprehend the abrupt ending to her captivity.

"Yes, Jennifer," he said, kissing her softly, while his hand smoothed her hair, "I'm here, Darling. You're safe."

Hearing his words and feeling his arms around her caused her body to release the tension it had built and as he removed the chain from her wrist, she collapsed against him.

"Did he hurt you? Touch you?"

She shook her head, "He took good care of me," she replied, then, her eyes flew open wide. "Lisa? How is she?"

"Don't worry about Lisa," he soothed.

"No," she protested, struggling in his arms, "She was hurt. He knocked her out. How is she?"

"Bella…"

"Hotch!" JJ said, causing her supervisor to turn his attention to her.

"JJ," he began, studying her, "Are you hurt?"

"I'm fine," she shook her head, "How's Lisa?"

"She's okay," he softly said.

JJ shook her head again, "No, she was injured."

"She was," he allowed, "Broken ribs, a slight concussion. But she'll be okay. She's worried about you."

"And I'm worried about her. Will you take me to her?"

"Jennifer," Rossi interjected, "You need to let them check you out as well."

"Fine," she smartly said, "Take me to the same ER they took Lisa."

"But…"

"No buts, David. That's where I'm going," she sat up, rubbing her wrist. "Now, are you taking me or do I have to get one of the Sherriff's men to do so?"

"I'll take you," he acquiesced.

XXXXX

Lisa lay on the gurney. She was tired, she was uncomfortable, and she was overwhelmed with worry. She hadn't heard from Hotch since he'd left to go rescue JJ, three hours ago. Dr Fager had told her they'd gotten her a room but she refused to let them move her until she'd heard from Hotch and Fager had gone along with her wishes.

Sighing, she closed her eyes and said another prayer that she'd hear something soon.

"Lisa?" JJ's voice began, causing her to open her eyes.

"JJ!" she said, trying to sit up only to have her ribs remind her that she sudden moves were forbidden.

The petite blond walked to her side and took her hands. As tears filled her eyes, she said, "Look at you! Lisa I'm so sorry…"

"I'm sorry," Lisa protested, tears of her own falling. "I let him take you."

"You couldn't have stopped him," she countered, "You were hurt and then he hit you."

"But…I could've…"

"Stop, please?" JJ cried, "Don't feel guilty about this. Brandeis didn't harm me. He treated me very well. I am fine."

Pain, emotion, and adrenaline stripped Lisa's ability to sensor her speech and she blurted out, "I let him take you…"

"Lisa…"

She shook her head, "Dave said it and he's right. I couldn't remember anything."

"They told me that you recalled the name of the hotel…" she encouraged, "Without that, they wouldn't have found me." When Lisa opened her mouth to protest, JJ's tone grew forceful, "Listen to me, Lisa -- I don't care what anyone said, or what you may think right now, but you saved my life -- you saved my life." Her voice choked with emotion and tears flowed from her eyes as she gently hugged her friend and felt Lisa's arms encircle her as well.

XXXXX

Lisa woke slowly, gradually remembering the night's events. Her body ached and her chest down right burned with each breath she took. Feeling another presence in the room, she carefully turned her head to find her husband's dark eyes staring back at her.

"What are you doing here?" she asked, surprised that the horrible rasping sound she heard was her own voice.

"Waiting for you to wake up," he softly smiled, kissing her forehead.

One look at him told her that he had not been to sleep. "You need sleep…"

"I need to make sure you're okay," he countered.

"Go home," she said, "You need to be there when Melissa wakes up."

"I've got time," he said, his lips brushing her forehead again.

"Hotch…" she softly said, watching the emotion flood his features. "Hey…"

He shook his head, fighting to keep control.

"We should be used to this by now," she said, trying to be light. "How many people have we seen go through things like this?"

"No, we shouldn't be used to it," he countered, his voice straining with emotion "You're my wife. I don't know any of those other people. But I know you. And I love you. And I don't want to ever see you like that again."

As the words left his lips, she watched him crumble, giving in to the emotions she'd watched him turn off thousands of times. Leaning his forehead against hers, he let go, albeit quietly. Despite the pain it caused, she wrapped her arms around him.

"Shhhh…." She softly soothed, "its okay." She pulled back to study his face, then leaned forward and kissed him. She'd meant for it to be a soft, tender kiss, but when her lips touched his, a spark caught and despite the bruising on her lips, the kiss was deep, emotional, and passionate. It was a kiss that lead to another and another, each growing with intensity.

Had they been in a different setting, the intensity would have lead to love making, but they weren't. Slowly, he pulled back, studying her face.

"If I wasn't in so much pain," she said, with a teary smile, "You'd be in deep trouble."

With a deep laugh he said, "You would be." He kissed her softly, then said, "Can you slide over a little?"

"What did you have in mind?"

"If I can't make love to you," he softly said, sitting on the bed next to her and taking her into his arms, "I can at least hold you."

Settling into his arms, Lisa closed her eyes with a content smile, "But you'll be there for Melissa right?"

"I'll be home in time," he promised, kissing her forehead, as she drifted off to sleep.


	20. Bring It On

_**Great is the art of beginning, but greater is the art of ending.**__**Henry Wadsworth Longfellow**_

Aaron Hotchner was tired. He'd worked his characteristic 11 hour day and headed home to Annandale just like any other night. Only this wasn't any other night. This had been his last day at Quantico.

Effective Monday, he'd be reporting to the Hoover Building in DC, moving from his position as Executive Assistant Director for the Criminal Investigative Branch into the office of the Director.

He supposed he'd always wanted the position, but he'd never let himself believe it would happen until ten years ago when Erin Strauss retired and he moved into her spot as the Assistant Director. From there it had been a relatively quick, wild ride up the ladder to the Director's Chair.

Lisa had jokingly said that life as they knew it was about to change. He'd told her that since they'd gotten together; their lives had been as rapidly changing as mercury. She laughed, but had to agree.

Despite the rapid fire changes in his life over the past 14 years, looking back, there wasn't much he'd do differently. Sure, he'd spend more time with Jack, if he could, but since Melissa was born, Lisa made it her mission that Jack would spend as much time as possible with his father and new sister. It took Hayley a while to come around to it, but once she did, Jack became a more frequent fixture in their family life.

The sounds of the laughing voices of his wife and daughter pulled his attention to the master bedroom. He stood just out of sight, listening to the playful banter that made up 85% of the conversations in the Hotchner household.

Peeking around the corner, he looked at his 13 year old daughter, marveling at how she'd grown so fast and was a bright, beautiful teenager. He was proud that Melissa kept a straight A average, wrote for the middle school paper, and played saxophone in the jazz band. Much to his chagrin, however, she'd embraced punk rock music and clothing. Yet, despite her dress and musical taste, she remained polite and respectful, as, surprisingly, were the rest of her punk friends.

He supposed that being polite was their form of rebellion. Going against the perceived image of a punk rocker made them different. Either way, he was grateful that despite the hard core way she sometimes looked, "his Lissy" was still a good kid.

"Mom," Melissa Hotchner began, propping herself up on her elbows as she lay across her parents' bed. "You're not wearing that to Daddy's swearing in, are you?"

"And what's wrong with this?" Lisa asked, looking at her reflection in the mirror.

Hotch thought that the tasteful pale blue skirt suit looked good on her, although, it did look more like something Jackie Kennedy would wear.

"Mom, it's blue," Melissa said, wrinkling her nose, "It's so not you."

"What should I wear?" Lisa sighed, as their red headed daughter hopped up from the bed and walked to the closet.

"You bought four suits…" Melissa said, voicing his earlier thoughts, "And three of them look like something the President's wife would wear."

"Well…." She began, but her daughter cut her off.

"Mom, Daddy's not the president," she sighed, "And you're not the first lady. You're too…" she searched for a word, "Normal." She pulled out a suit, "Here, wear this one."

Lisa took the black and white pinstriped suit from her daughter's hands. "You think?"

Melissa nodded, "With that maroon silk tank…"

"And if you're wearing your black and white suit?"

"I'm not," she dismissed, "Aunt Pen got me a dress…"

Lisa raised a brow.

"No, Mom, its cool, its pink and its vintage," she nodded, "We found outfits for both of us last weekend. She's so excited that Daddy picked her as his assistant."

"I can't imagine anyone else in the job," Lisa agreed.

"Besides," Melissa shrugged, "You're gonna have to force Jack into a tie. You know he hates wearing anything but sweats and jeans."

"He'll wear a tie for me," Lisa smugly said, "He may be 17, but he still loves his Aunt Lisa best."

"Yeah, him and Little Dave," she laughed, "Little boys love you."

"Big boys do too," Hotch said, finally walking into the room. He slipped his arm around her shoulder and pecked her cheek.

"Some do," she smugly said. "What are you doing home this early?"

He laughed, "It's 8 pm."

"That's early for you, Daddy," Melissa said, as she hugged him.

"Lissy, you, too?" he feigned sadness, "I'm wounded."

"I'll cheer you up," she brightly said, "You're on the front page of the school paper."

"I am?"

She nodded proudly, "It's not every day that the parent of a St Anselm's student gets sworn in as Director of the FBI."

"You say that like you're proud of it," he teased.

Melissa shrugged, "I told you. You might be director of the FBI, but you're still just my dad."

Hotch shook his head and looked at Lisa, "She's still your Mini Me."

"And Jack's yours," she returned with a wry smile. "Speaking of which, is he coming over tonight or meeting us in the morning?"

"He'll be here after practice," he explained, loosening his tie. "I talked to Hayley and she swears he had his suit in the car when he left for school."

"Bet he didn't bring a tie," Melissa muttered.

"Probably not, but he forgets that I have several that I could loan him," Hotch pulled his tie from his collar and tossed it at his daughter.

"Not this one," she said, wrinkling her nose at the blue and red striped tie. "I don't like this one."

"What's wrong with it?" he asked, a brow raised.

"It looks…like something a prep school kid would wear," she shrugged, tossing the tie back at him.

"Melissa, look at your father…" Lisa teased.

"You've got a point," Melissa winked.

"Now wait just one second," he protested, "Just because I don't have facial piercings and multicolored spiked hair…"

Lisa winced, "Now that's an image I'm not sure I can conjure."

"I dunno, Mom," Melissa said, eyes twinkling with merriment, "I could see it."

"You think?" Lisa returned in kind, studying her husband.

"You do realize you're speaking about the Director of the FBI," he said, with a faux sternness that neither one of them was buying.

"Like the kid said," Lisa winked, pecking his cheek, "You're still just her dad."

"Yeah," Melissa said, pecking the other cheek, "What she said."

"Come on, Mel. Let's go see if we can scare up some dinner for the Director of the FBI," Lisa said, walking out of the room.

"Oh, and Daddy?" Melissa said, stopping at the door.

"Yes?"

"Don't wear the red and blue striped tie tomorrow, okay?" she grinned, and then walked off down the hall.

XXXXX

"So," Lisa said, as he slipped into bed next to her, "Are you ready for tomorrow?"

Her lips curled into a wry smile that he found amazingly sexy and he leaned over and kissed her. "It's just another day at work."

"Wiseass," she laughed, "Come on, you have to be a little excited…"

He shrugged.

"Aaron Michael Hotchner," she playfully admonished, "You mean to tell me you're not excited at all?"

"I guess a bit," he allowed, "Scared shitless is more like it."

"You have nothing to be scared of," she softly said, placing her hand to his cheek. "Have I told you how proud of you I am?"

"Many times," he said, kissing her. "And you've showed me once or twice as well."

"Play your cards right and I just may show you again."

"We need to get up early tomorrow," he countered, as she slipped her hand under the waistband of his boxers and caressed him.

"Yeah, but I know you," she said, her voice a sexy purr. "You're not going to sleep well tonight. I thought I'd help relax you…"

With a deep chuckle he replied, "Or tire me out."

"Either way, you'll sleep tonight, I promise."

XXXXX

"This is so wild," Melissa began, gazing around the ballroom. "Look at this place, Jack."

"It's a ballroom," 17 year old Jack Hotchner shrugged, failing to see what his little sister saw in the room.

Melissa rolled her eyes at him, "But, this whole thing…this whole big party and stuff, is for Daddy."

Jack shrugged again, "He's the director, they've gotta put on a show for him."

"How does your girlfriend stand you?" Melissa sighed, "You're so clueless."

"She stands me just fine," he smartly returned, tugging at one of her long red curls.

"Jack!" she hissed, "Stop it!"

"Hey, there my Miniature Hotch," Penelope Garcia lightly said, walking up between them, "Check the sibling rivalry at the door."

"Yeah," Melissa smartly added, causing Garcia to look at her with raised brows. "Sorry, Aunt Pen."

"How long does this thing go, anyway?" Jack asked, gazing around at the rapidly filling ballroom.

"It just started, Jack," Garcia laughed, "There's a dinner, then dancing."

"Dancing?" Jack grew alarmed, "Nobody said anything about dancing."

"Dancing is optional," she assured him. "But you will have to give me one dance."

"Aunt Pen," he blushed, "I can't dance."

"I'll teach you."

"Baby Girl," Derek Morgan's voice began, causing them to turn and face him, "What did you say to that boy? He's as red as your lipstick."

Melissa was happy to fill Morgan in, "She asked him for a dance."

Morgan nodded in understanding, "Face it, Kid, you're gonna have to suck it up and do the dancing thing. The ladies love it when their man can dance."

Jack winced, "Dad doesn't dance."

"He can slow dance," Morgan corrected, "That's all you need to do. Works like a charm."

"Of course, being an ATF team leader doesn't help," Garcia winked.

"See, that's that the girls want to hear," Jack decided. "That's why I'm looking at it."

"Boy, ATF ain't the way to start," Morgan advised, "Go up the way I did, do the FBI first, get your investigative skills in order first."

"Yeah," Melissa teased, "And learn how to hit your targets when you're shooting."

Jack narrowed his eyes and glared at her as only a big brother can do, but said nothing.

"Now come on, Little Lisa," Morgan teased, having taken both children to the target range, only to find out that Melissa far out did her brother with her innate talent. "He's improving."

"Besides," Spencer Reid said, walking up behind Jack, "Marksmanship is only part of the skills required for the FBI."

"Spencer!" Melissa grinned, clearly happy to see him, "You made it."

"We just got back from Idaho. The jet literally touched down twenty minutes ago," he said, hugging her, "Which is why I'm not dressed properly."

"It's okay," she dismissed, "Is Emily with you?"

"She decided to get changed," he said, rolling his eyes, "She said it would do well for the BAU's Unit Chief to arrive in a suit she'd slept in."

"That's Emily," Garcia laughed, looking around, "I'm so glad the whole old crew is going to be together tonight."

"Where are Hotch and Rossi?" Morgan asked, looking around.

"Uncle Dave and my Dad are talking to reporters from CNN and Aunt Lisa and Aunt JJ were heading off to the bathroom," Jack advised.

"It's nearly time for dinner to start, we should probably sit," Garcia advised, taking Jack's arm and slipping and arm around Melissa's shoulders, "Come on, my little Hotchner Babies, let's go find our table."

XXXXX

Lisa O'Reilly Hotchner watched her husband as he picked at his desert. No matter how much he tried to play it off, he was nervous. He'd done well at the swearing in ceremony and the press conference afterwards, but then again, he was accustomed to speaking to the press.

He'd been working on his speech for days and despite the note cards he was looking over, she knew he had it committed to memory, the cards were just a prop, something to distract him.

She reached over and gave his hand a gentle squeeze, causing him to look up at her and smile.

"Are you ready?" she asked quietly.

"As I'll ever be," he returned, leaning over and kissing her softly, leaning his forehead against hers.

"Just picture everyone in their underwear," she returned with a devilish grin,

He winced, "Nice image you're putting into my mind."

"Okay, then just picture me in my underwear," she continued.

"And now you're trying to kill my concentration all together," he laughed, kissing her again.

"Can you two lovebirds tone it down a bit," Rossi teased, causing them to pull apart. He shook his head, "In front of the children, too."

"They're worse at home," Melissa laughed as the prior director of the FBI took the stage and began to speak,

"Are you ready?" Lisa asked him quietly.

XXXXX

"As I'll ever be," he replied, as the former director called him to the stage. He stood, then bent and pecked Lisa's cheek, before walking to the stage.

He shook hands with the former director, thanking him for his support, and then stood at the podium. With a quick glance out his notes, he looked up at the crowd and began to speak.

"I can still very vividly remember the day I walked into the BAU for the first time. It was much different than what you see today. We started off in a basement, with none of the high tech accoutrements that we currently have. I spent countless hours poring over paper files, traveling to each point of research, and tracking down details anyway we could.

I was, some say, hand picked by Jason Gideon and David Rossi to join the unit. Although, over the years, they each blamed the other for my presence more than they took credit for it.

I was raw back then, and despite what I thought, I was very green. It took them two whole hours to start calling me "Kid" and it stuck with me for years. But Gideon and Rossi saw something in me and although their methods were sometimes questionable, I credit them both with teaching me the skills I have today. Dave, I cannot thank you enough for what you've done for me and what you continue to do.

Six months into my time with the BAU, Gideon and Rossi hand picked another young agent to join the team. A cocky, red head that made the two of them shake their heads much more than I had ever done. I, for one, was grateful for her presence; it took the heat off of me for a while and allowed me to hone my skills.

If you would have told me back then that I would end up married to that cocky redhead, I would have laughed in your face. Yet, over time, I learned that the cockiness was just a façade. There is not a more loyal, loving, supportive, woman on the planet. She has been my best friend, my confidante, and knows me better than anyone ever has. And despite all of that, we just celebrated our 14th wedding anniversary.

I brought to that marriage my son Jack, who despite my bungled attempts at fatherhood in his early years, is an intelligent young man, who knows the meaning of honor, duty, right and wrong. I am proud to call him my son and my friend.

Thirteen years ago, I became a father for the second time. This time, to a daughter. Melissa was lucky enough to not only inherit her mother's looks, but also her mother's loving heart and viciously dry sense of humor

I can honestly say that without Lisa, Jack, and Melissa waiting for me at home, I would not have survived.

For many years, my family at home was supplemented by my family at the BAU. Just like any family, we all had our role.

One would've thought that Rossi would've been the responsible adult, and he was, the grizzled old profiler who knew the BAU as it started and the BAU as it evolved, but he was also passionate, a thinker and a feeler. I had to rein him in at times, but I can honestly say that if I had to assemble a team today, in five minutes, he would be my first choice.

Derek Morgan came to the BAU courtesy of Chicago PD. The day he walked through the double doors, I wondered what we were thinking. He walked into the bull pen, flashed that Colgate smile, and charmed every woman in the place. Derek turned out to be an excellent profiler and a great friend. Shortly after I took over as Assistant Director, Derek left the FBI for the ATF, but he's remained a good friend and a fixture in my life, someone I consider as close as a brother.

Spencer Reid was like a little brother to most of the BAU staff. He came to us with two doctorates and a wealth of knowledge that was downright frightening and a marksmanship skill level that was terrifying. We spent many hours together at the range and during that time I learned a great deal about him. I've watched him grow into the confident capable profiler he is today. I'm proud to have been a part of his growth and to call him a friend.

When I stepped in to the Assistant Director's role, Erin Strauss asked me to help her pick my replacement as Unit Chief of the BAU. I took some time to seriously consider my current team and one name stood out above them all. Emily Prentiss. She was as no nonsense and by the book as I was and growing up as an Ambassador's Daughter, she had the built in people skills that that position needed. She's done an impressive job with the unit and continues to lead with a passion for the BAU that nearly rivals David Rossi's.

In our BAU family, it's impossible to say the name David Rossi without also saying the name Jennifer Jareau-Rossi in the same breath. Although she's proud to be married to my friend Dave, mentioning JJ only as Dave's wife is not giving her proper credit. She began as our Media Liaison, dealing with the people we in the BAU didn't want to face….the press, the local authorities, just about anyone who would get in our way while we were on the hunt. And did she ever surprise people who thought they could walk right over her. Her ability to soothe the masses and make us look good even when we didn't brought her to the attention of the FBI Hierarchy and they took her from the BAU to become the Bureau Media Liaison. A position, I will make sure she keeps during my tenure as Director.

The heart and soul of the family was Penelope Garcia, our technical analyst, our self titled "Goddess of all Knowledge" and our guardian angel. There isn't one of us who's lives weren't made better just by knowing her. Through out the years, she's become such an integral part of my life, both in the FBI and out, that when asked if I had any preference on an assistant to accompany me to the Director's office, without hesitation I named her and I am honored that she said yes.

The one person I should thank most, though, Jason Gideon, isn't here tonight, but he is in our hearts, and on our minds. When Jason left the BAU, I was called upon to fill his position. It was a daunting task because I knew that although I could fill his position, I could never fill his shoes.

I've been standing here speaking for quite sometime," he laughed. "I promise you, this is not a preview of future speeches. But I would have been remiss if I didn't give thanks where it was due. I am looking forward to my new role with a sense of history, a sense of honor, and a sense of adventure. I'm ready to take the helm of the Bureau and steer it ahead on a positive course through some of the stormiest times in history. As my wife Lisa is fond of saying Bring It On."

**Author's Note: I could not have completed this chapter without the amazing assistance of Susan - my birth coach. She pulled this one out of me!! And to Annika, who's suggestions and reviews have kept me going!! And finally, to all of you who came along on this journey. Thank you for your interest and support!**


End file.
